One Death Away
by Foxmerc
Summary: With Andross' defeat, Venom space becomes home to pirates, remnant soldiers, and other isolated dangers. Corneria responds by deploying the most advanced warship ever conceived, unaware of the dire threat awaiting it-a threat unimaginable even to Fox.
1. Prologue

Introduction: Greetings again! Recent reintroduction to the site has brought out some ideas that have been floating around for awhile now. This story is one of my favorites and takes some chances that I was a bit timid about doing before. I always found writing Starfox to be a nice, relaxing way to take a break from more serious work. Also, I uploaded this prologue and Chapter 1 at the same time, so be sure to continue on. NOTE: Like all of my fics, this story takes place in the Starfox 64 universe without inclusion of any sequels and their plot elements. But enough from me...thank you for reading and as always, I hope you enjoy! –Foxmerc

Additional Note: This story includes my original character Gage Birse, featured before in "Vanguard" and "The Mercenary Wars." He shows up early but don't worry if you don't know who that is, all of my stories unless otherwise noted are independent of each other and self-contained. His friendship with Fox and how it started will be revealed throughout this story.

**UPDATE, MAY 2011**: Be warned, I just discovered that this site for some reason has eliminated the use of the dash symbol in certain contexts. Since I use the dash symbol for some scene transitions or the passage of time, and also distancing between taglines, this renders certain parts of the story rather confusing since it will appear one scene and the next may run into each other. I will be fixing this as time passes, but a story this long is a large undertaking to find and insert a new symbol where these dashes should be. Please be aware of this as you read. If you want to read "One Death Away" fully without waiting for me to finish the long edit, shoot me a PM and I can email you my original Word copy.

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**One Death Away**

Foxmerc

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PROLOGUE  
_Press Release_

_\  
_

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

General Pepper, Army Special Services

c/o Spc. Sasha Soren, Primary Aide

Special Services HQ, Cornerian Army Complex, Corneria City

For release to public press

LDC VANGUARD, FLAGSHIP OF THE LYLAT DEFENSE COALITION, EMBARKS ON MAIDEN VOYAGE.

Cornerian Army Special Operations Command director General Pepper is proud to announce on behalf of the Lylat Defense Coalition that the _LDC Vanguard _has set off on its maiden voyage across the galaxy. At a press conference on Katina, surrounded by representatives of the LDC (pictured left to right; Macbeth, Fortuna, Titania, Katina, Zoness. Aquas absent due to domestic urgency) General Pepper spoke for the council to an audience of diplomats and the galactic press.

"It is with great pleasure, pride, and hope that the Lylat Defense Coalition sends this vessel into active status. The _LDC Vanguard _is the culmination of years of diplomatic support and is a true testament to the shared goal of all free people of Lylat: a safe, peaceful galaxy.

"Since the fall of Emperor Andross' regime, diplomats from every planet have come forth with the realization that the fate of Lylat is a fate we all share. Thus, the best engineers, astrophysicists, scientists, and craftsmen from across the galaxy have united to create a new class of capital ship: the Titan. The _LDC Vanguard_ is the only ship of its kind, a Titan class, the pinnacle of modern space travel. With an unrivaled onboard jump drive and shield system, housing for thousands of crew members, a fleet of warships in its bays, and size comparable to a small city, the LDC Vanguard is a mobile military and science headquarters. The people of Lylat can sleep easy knowing that a force like Andross', a force able to threaten our homelands, will be swiftly confronted before it can expand.

"The LDC has recently been petitioned from the esteemed representative from Zoness to my right regarding increased pirate activity in the lawless deadspace around Venom and the vessel graveyard of Area 6. It has been unanimously decided that the Vanguard's first assignment, with the bridge under the command of the honored Admiral McGarret, will be to assess any threat in the region and retaliate accordingly. The Vanguard will send a strong message to the rogue elements from Andross' army as well as the many pirate gangs and mercenary thugs that prey on the citizens of Lylat.

"Given that this is the first mission for the Vanguard, the LDC has opted for every possible safeguard. The Cornerian Third Marine Battalion will travel as the ship's active ground force, with advisement from the commander of the Army's elite Dagger unit. Air support will be provided by onboard pilots from every planet under the command of the Bulldog squadron from Katina. In addition, the StarFox mercenary group, oft-proven ally of Lylat, has offered to fly escort for no charge. We figured a chance at some publicity alone would hook them in."

This earned the general some laughter from the reporters and attending diplomats before his face again turned stoic.

"This mission will undoubtedly prove that the combined efforts of the free people of Lylat can forever triumph over those that would seek chaos, thievery, and piracy. Together, we can turn the lawless space of Venom, and perhaps the planet itself, into something to be proud of. The pirates are scattered, undisciplined, and greedy; my faith and the faith of the LDC in the Vanguard's mission are unwavering. Godspeed to you, the crew. The hopes, prayers, and encouragement of myself, my colleagues, and the people of Lylat go with you."

As the general saluted and stepped away from the podium, he was met with a thunderous ovation from the other council members of the LDC as well as the audience.

The Lylat Defense Coalition is a diplomatic congregation of representatives from the seven planets of Lylat. Formed after the war with Andross, the Coalition's goal is free diplomatic exchange amongst the allied powers of the Lylat galaxy. Though its beginning years were rife with controversy, hesitancy, and fear, the current adopted rule contract clearly sets each government's sovereignty, protection from outside influence, freedom to act on its own, and admittance into the Coalition by its own will. The LDC is a forum for diplomatic communication, action, and connection in a vast galaxy.

For information regarding the careers of General Pepper and Admiral McGarret as well as pertinent information to freelance unit Starfox, see attached files. Information regarding Bulldog and Dagger units is protected under military classification.

For immediate release.

Galactic press.


	2. Venom Screams

Author's Note: Since I uploaded this and the prologue at the same time, please be sure to go back and read the prologue first if clicking on the story linked you here. NOTE: Like all my fics, this story assumes the existence of SF64 and no sequels. Thanks for reading and enjoy, and thank you for any reviews and comments. -Foxmerc

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CHAPTER 1  
Venom Screams  
_Corneria City Suburbs  
__1933 hours_

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"Daddy's home!"

The hydraulic sigh of the front door had not woken Fox, but the deep, confident call of his father had. He sat bolt upright, his cheek numb from where he had been napping for the past hour – a chair at the kitchen table, his school text book acting as his rigid pillow. The paragraphs and pages of Cornerian history, concoctions of boredom for a boy of nine years, were forgotten at the sound of his father. Vicenzia McCloud stepped into the kitchen, a smile on her muzzle, as Fox hopped up from the chair and ran to greet his father.

"There's my little man!" James McCloud dropped his duffel bag and hoisted up his son with a grunt of effort. He held him in the crook of his arm and let the boy squeeze him around the neck. "You take good care of your mother while I was away?"

"Uh huh!" Fox let go of his father's neck and whispered. "She's making me do homework."

"Oh yeah? What kind?"

"History. Lots of it."

"History was my favorite subject." He lowered his son to the floor and reached for his bag. "Anything interesting?"

"No. Just some old king who killed his parents to make himself king or something."

"Oh, getting funny ideas, huh? Well, your mom and I got our eyes on you." James poked Fox in the stomach, provoking a squeal of laughter. He winked at Vicenzia, who had come to join them. "Well if your mother wouldn't mind a little break, I have a gift for you."

Fox's eyes lit up and he looked back at his mother.

She sighed and said, "Your father's a day late, I suppose another minute won't matter."

James knelt and rummaged in his bag. "Close your eyes."

Fox obeyed, but tried to slit his eyelids ever so slightly. He still could not make out what his father pulled from the bag. James took Fox's hand and placed something smooth, metallic, and heavier than expected in his hand. Fox tried to close his fist around it, but his fingers were met with sharp pricks. With a shiver of anticipation, he opened his eyes and took in a slight breath.

"See that, little man? That's the future."

Fox took the model star fighter and turned it around in his palms. It was nearly as long as one hand, wrist to finger-tip, and held more ornate detail than any of the dozens of models in Fox's room. The model looked as if it could fly right up into the air and dance above their heads. "Wow…what is it? Are they using it in a movie?"

James shook his head, nearly as enthused as his son. "No, Fox. This is called an Arwing. It's a new type of air and space superiority fighter with unrivaled ship-to-ship maneuvering and even anti-capital ordnance." James raised his brow, proud that his son appeared to have understood what he had said. "One of daddy's friends is developing it for possible military use. But you know what? He says when the prototype is complete, Starfox gets the first batch."

"Wow! Will you take me for a ride in one?"

"You bet."

"Awesome!" Fox dove into his kneeling father and squeezed him around the neck again. After a moment, he slid down and looked at the model in his hands with more of a thoughtful countenance, his eyes shadowed. He spoke, but kept his eyes on the Arwing. "I missed you. You were gone for five days."

James pursed his lips and glanced at his wife. "I know, son. Daddy had a real important job. A man needed help with a big problem."

"Doesn't the military have anyone else?"

James chuckled. He had been trying to explain the concept of the mercenary to Fox for some time, but the boy still considered it military in nature. Part of the older fox thought that his son might simply be rejecting the notion since mercenaries rarely received accolades or even unbiased approach. He and Vicenzia tried their best to keep Fox away from the grim news shows, but they couldn't keep him completely in the dark.

"Come here, Fox." James sat full on the floor and held his son on his knee. "You like Uncle Peppy, right?"

Fox nodded.

"And daddy's friend Pigma?"

Another nod.

"Well, we have our own team and our own rules. Like, uh…like a repairman. Remember that time we had to have that repairman come and fix the heater? Well, it's sort of like that. The military has a problem, and daddy and Peppy and Pigma know how to fix them. You see?"

Fox kept his gaze on the Arwing. "My history book says mercenaries were hired because they kill for money and have no loyalties. Is that what Starfox is?"

James opened his mouth a few times to answer, but could not find the words. Finally, he said, "People earn a living by doing what they do best. Any field has good people and bad people. My work is no different. There are good mercenaries and bad mercenaries. Just remember that your father's with the good guys, alright?"

"What if a bad guy hired you?"

James thought of the simplistic answer: he wouldn't take the job. But listening to his growing son's mature questions, he felt that Fox deserved more than that. "Mistakes are part of life. Sometimes, mistakes can mean the end of life. We accept contracts that appear genuine and serve justice, or ones that do not harm any innocent people. We do all the research we can, but my entire team knows that we risk being lied to. Back when we met, Pigma was with another group. He said he wasn't sure if he could trust me. He said that sometimes you can't recognize a cunning bad guy until it's too late. I couldn't blame him. I wasn't sure I trusted him either at the time. You understand, Fox? It's like any other job. You make mistakes, you have to earn trust in your coworkers, and sometimes you have to take risks even if they lead to more mistakes." James wasn't sure his son was getting it all, and he worried that he was speaking from a darker part of his mood. The job had been difficult, his week long and full of doubts. He lied about one thing; his job was not like any other. It was hard to come home to serenity and love after a week of staring into danger and death. He pepped up his voice. "But you can bet that if I ever found out a man that hired me was a bad guy, I'd go and make it right."

"Seriously?"

"You bet. You know all those thank-you letters people send me that I frame and put in my study upstairs? Only a good guy with good clients would get letters like that, right?"

The reasoning seemed to perk Fox up again and he nodded. His smile returned when his father tickled his stomach and placed him back on his own feet.

James stood and brushed off the seat of his pants. "You mind if I say hello to your mother now?"

Fox shook his head, once again preoccupied with the model.

"Hi Vix," James said in a low voice, taking the vixen by the waist.

"Hi, James," she replied with a grin and a sideways glance at Fox. "You don't think that thing is too sharp for him?"

"No more than half the things he's got in that room of his. Forget about it; I brought home a gift for you, too. I'll show you in the bedroom."

Vicenzia giggled and let his arms bring her closer. They held each other close and kissed, their muzzles locking for long enough to make up for the five-day long absence. Fox waited around, eager to see what this gift was that James brought home for his mother. After a minute, he rolled his eyes, gagged dramatically at the kissing, and ran into the kitchen, the Arwing raised high above his head and soaring majestically.

* * *

Fox awoke to the high-pitched tone of the roaster letting his mother know that dinner was done.

No. His eyelids fluttered open.

Fox awoke to the high-pitched tone of the comm receiver by his bed. He moved his hand to rub his eyes and realized that he held the small, metal Arwing model that his father had given him fourteen years before at the naïve age of nine. He had fallen asleep with it, turning it over with his fingers and remembering that day, studying the regicidal king and learning of mercenaries: wondering for the first time whether it would be his father walking through the door or Peppy with a sad face and heart-shattering news. Such a day did eventually come.

Fox stood, the ringing of the comm secondary in his mind to the pictures of his dream, lingering like invasive smoke. He wasn't sure why it disturbed him; it should've been a happy memory, a time when the McClouds were not one death away from extinction. He replaced the Arwing gingerly atop its customized stand sitting on a shelf beside other relics of years behind him: the Civilian Medal of Merit awarded to him after the war, a trophy from his academy days, his mother's favorite necklace, a picture of the Great Fox's dedication ceremony, and finally an old bullet-operated pistol from his grandfather. They all stood together on the highest shelf where Fox could look up and be reminded of them or look down when he wanted to forget.

Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he finally stepped to the comm unit on the polysteel wall and hit the receive button. "Problem?"

"Maybe." The voice was not ROB's as expected, but rather a very alert Slippy. "You better come to the bridge."

"Ok."

His voice must not have sounded right; Slippy hesitated a moment and said, "Are you alright?"

The dream had already begun to slip away back to the time where it belonged. Fox took a sharp breath and focused. Vanguard. Escort. Right. "Yeah, just woke up. I'll be right there."

He knew his way around bright corridors and short lift tube rides better than the street he grew up on, so he kept his focus on snapping himself awake. The sound of his boots on the metal floor was like a familiar drum cadence, punctuated with the dull impact of edged rubber at the few stairs. When the doors to the bridge slid open, he was greeted with the eerily comforting cacophony of electronic pulses and signals, thankfully unaccompanied by the alarm. ROB stood at the central control console, monitoring the ship and surrounding space with no hint of alert. Slippy sat at the command console, swiveling every few seconds to a new screen around him and typing madly. Peppy stood with his hands clasped behind him, gazing out the window at the LDC Vanguard in the distance while Falco lounged in the captain's chair, slouched halfway down the back.

"What's the problem?" Fox asked.

"We don't know yet," Slippy replied, his voice accelerating. It was a strange quirk of his; the faster he typed, the faster he spoke. "The Vanguard received ghost signals about fifteen minutes ago. We just picked them up in the last minute." He shook his head. "I'd kill to buy some of the equipment that ship has."

"Isn't that how we buy everything?" Falco muttered with a chuckle. Fox didn't laugh.

Slippy didn't miss a beat. "It could be anything. Debris, lost civilian craft, a space octopus, or…" He hesitated after his inside-joke code word for an unknown signal. "…or a cloaking system. We're near a small nebula cloud, it could be interfering with their system."

Peppy interjected. "Who would attack the Vanguard? More likely tourists or a rabid journalist looking for some pictures."

Fox kicked Falco's ankle out from under him, sending him into a slide down the chair that nearly ended with him on the floor. The avian grunted and shuffled to his assigned chair a tier down. Fox sat and punched up the contents of Slippy's screen on the armrest monitor. "Doesn't look like much. The Vanguard's long-range artillery would hit them miles out anyway. Let the behemoth worry about it. For once, we can be happy being the little guy. That thing's at least a hundred times the Great Fox's size."

"Two-hundred and ten," the toad corrected. "Simply marvelous."

"Yeah, well, we wouldn't even be able to launch before that thing obliterated any opposition. Relax." Fox leaned back and stretched his arms and legs. "You hear the general's speech? Can you believe he used us as a joke?"

Peppy chuckled. "Well, we aren't shying away from publicity. We sure could use it with business being the way it is."

"Yeah, but he didn't have to _say _it. I think it's the LDC's fault business is the way it is anyway. Galactic security is tighter. There's more diplomacy. Lylat's a pretty safe place. All we get any more is bounty hunter jobs for bail jumpers."

Falco perked up in his chair. "What did I say? What did I say back when the LDC was first being formed?"

Slippy swiveled all the way around. "I think the eloquent and succinct way you put it was, 'This is some bad shit. It's gonna bite us in the ass.'"

"Exactly. And now that everything besides Venom airspace is fine and dandy, which we played the most part in by the way, Lylat's abandoned us."

Fox shook his head. "No. No one's abandoned us. They just…well, they just don't need us anymore."

Peppy raised his brow and nodded. "Is that such a bad thing? Wasn't that the goal all along?"

No one answered. There was no easy answer. In order for good to shine, evil has to exist. In order for warriors to have purpose, strife must exist. What, then, does a benevolent warrior wish for? Somehow, the thought brought Fox back to his dream, his memory. Did his father ever have such thoughts? Did his father ever want Lylat to be at peace without him? Did he reach an answer before his death?

"I don't like this." Slippy had gone back to his screens. "If this was a malfunction or debris, the scan filters would've taken care of it by now.

Fox looked at his own screen, then out at the Vanguard. He stood and joined Peppy near the wide window. The Vanguard was a beautiful sight. Though its gunmetal-gray, elongated design and countless lit windows reminded Fox of a skyscraper on its side, it became easy to see its special nature after only a few moments of study. Pepper's speech may have been crafted from a public relations standpoint, but there was truth in its testament to ingenuity and progress. He could see no hostile ships, but that didn't matter; his instincts felt more at home watching open space than a tiny screen. After a few minutes, the Vanguard yawed slightly starboard and different sections of the ship lit up with a surge of power. A blue glow emanated around the entire structure and quickly disappeared: shields being raised – the most advanced shielding system in existence.

Fox cocked his head. "Did they just go into a defensive pattern? Slippy, open a comm channel with—"

The space before him answered his concerns. Dozens of fighter craft darted into view between the Great Fox and the Vanguard, leaving brief light trails, residue of warp jumping, behind them. Dozens more came after them, followed by cruisers and frigates of every shape and size, every planetary origin, pirated and remade in the image of the ruthless outlaws of Venom airspace. The entrance caught Peppy and Fox staring in disbelief at the impossible range in which they jumped. A team of the galaxy's best astrophysicists would have had to work for weeks to calculate such a precise jump without collision.

"Holy hell…" Fox muttered.

Slippy's breath caught in his throat. "Did…did you see that? They jumped just within the Vanguard's artillery range! It can't use its long-range cannons! That short a jump…it's impossible."

"Apparently not." Falco had joined his teammates at the window. "I don't think they're space octopuses either."

"Octopi," Slippy corrected involuntarily. With his eyes lost in the screen before him, he might not have even realized he said it.

"Whatever. Who are they? Pirates?"

Fox stepped forward and placed his hand on the glass. "This many? Intel said they were scattered, harmless against a concentrated force."

"Why haven't they fired?" Peppy said in a near whisper.

The fighters, bombers, destroyers, and every other mangled class of ship before them simply floated in space for a few moments. Admiral McGarret apparently had not ordered combat initialization either, for the Vanguard stood silent yet ready like a predator anticipating the moment to pounce. Fox didn't like it; pirates never hesitate, never show mercy, and never show discipline. The confrontation felt unnatural.

"Open a comm channel with—" Again he was cut off from his order by a power fluctuation that dimmed the equipment for a moment. Though he couldn't be sure, he thought he saw the Vanguard's myriad lights flicker as well. "What was that?"

"I didn't do anything." Slippy tried different key combinations in rapid succession. Every screen on the bridge remained blank, but only for a moment. Letters appeared, red against the black, basic and direct. They continued for a few short seconds, typed by an invisible hand unhindered by the Great fox's security. When the letters stopped, they had formed eight lines, an unversed and puzzling poem:

_Usurpers have finally come_

_To claim what is mine_

_Venom is mine_

_You killed her king_

_So she has passed on to me_

_And she screams for justice_

_Venom screams_

_Hear her now_

The words disappeared as suddenly and surprisingly as they had arrived, returning the technical displays to normal. The moment the team blinked and tried to sort the message in their minds, the pirates burst into an all-out attack. Fighters' lasers strafed the Vanguard's shields and engaged Bulldog squadron and the staggering number of Coalition fighters that had been launched. Never in Fox's life had he seen such a monumental battle be waged in such a short time. His trance violently ended when a cruiser fired its heavy laser cannon and hit the Great Fox, causing the ship to vibrate. A few fighters joined in on plinking at the team's home. Fox's eyes narrowed. The Great Fox, like most ships in Lylat, only sported basic laser-deflection shields and mostly relied on two things: its armor and its ability to fight back.

"Rob, prime the main gun and blow that cruiser back to Venom. Stay on it and shoot at anything not Coalition. Keep deflectors forward and stay in a defensive holding pattern. We're launching." Fox gestured to Falco but halted Slippy. "Stay here and trace that message's signal. If things get bad, I'll call you out."

"Right."

Fox followed Falco to the door, but Peppy's hand clasped his shoulder. He turned and saw a mixture of worry and regret on the elderly hare's face. This would be his first mission benched since he retired from flying. Fox could see it, the pain of a bird whose wings had grown too old to support him any longer. He took a moment to place his hand over Peppy's.

"I, uh…" the elder sighed and looked lost as to what words to choose. "Good luck out there. I wish I could be with you."

"You'll always be out there with me, right alongside my father." Fox smiled and patted the hand. "And don't worry, I'll remember to do barrel rolls when I need to."

Peppy's face lightened and he let himself grin. He gently pushed Fox away. "Get out there and protect that ship."

The younger pilot disappeared into the corridor.

* * *

"Falco, engage the fighters. Leave the bigger game to the Vanguard."

"On it."

Fox set his throttle to full and let instinct take over; it never let him down before. His first kill came in the form of an old Venomian fighter, one of thousands reported missing after the war ended and looters had their way. It proved as weak as he remembered. Three solid shots severed it in two, sending both parts into a spin before exploding. Before the glow of the wreckage had even begun to fade, he moved on to his next target. As if to prove his last order correct, the Vanguard chose that moment to show that with its artillery out of the fight, it was far from helpless. While its smaller AA batteries lit up ever corner of visible space, its two fore cannons chimed in as well. Time stood still the moment before they fired, frozen in anticipation. Then, in a blinding explosion of two yellow lasers per cannon, the closest enemy cruiser, a challenge itself to a normal navy contingent, practically evaporated from view.

Falco whooped over the comm; Fox allowed himself an adrenaline fueled grin as well before reengaging his target. After a carefully placed burst of hyperlaser that turned the fighter into scrap, Fox pulled away and shifted his headset to the backup military frequency. He knew protocol, and after the invasive message, the Vanguard would have switched for security reasons. Suddenly, his ear buzzed with the rapid yet controlled orders from Admiral McGarret to his men.

"—starboard guns. Aft triple-A, engage and prioritize to keep shields operational. All gunnery reserves and engineering teams stand by at assigned battle stations. Port batteries divert power to shields and engage stragglers. Fore gunners, good shooting, continue to engage cruiser and destroyer-class vessels. Bulldog and Coalition leaders, report."

"This is Bulldog Actual reporting minimal casualties."

"Coalition Actual reporting. Enemy has suffered significant losses. At least five friendlies down."

"McGarret to all fighters, keep pressing them and steer clear of their support ships. Starboard! Fore! Keep firing damn it!"

Fox eased the stick trigger down and watched the pirate before him disintegrate in a fiery ball. He understood why the Coalition had chosen McGarret to command the Vanguard; they didn't come much tougher or more respected. Fox first heard of him during the war. Corneria most probably would have fallen if not for his fleet command in Sector Y. He and his ships managed to hold the second invasion force at bay until Starfox reinforced them, buying precious hours that turned the war around. They suffered heavy losses but got the job done and were ready to continue the advance in a matter of days.

"Vanguard, this is McCloud. Starfox has two pilots engaged and will provide support unless otherwise contacted."

He waited while the message was relayed to the bridge. To his surprise, McGarret himself answered the message with a simple response that Fox found encouraging.

"Just do what you do, son."

"Roger, bridge. Out."

Fox turned to engage in time to see Falco take down a fighter with a gratuitous display of firepower then boost away. The battle accelerated from there with the Vanguard gunners becoming accustomed to their first skirmish with the ship at their hands. Before long, only a few large enemy ships remained along with no more than thirty fighters. A good chunk of the Coalition fighters were gone as well, however, whether destroyed or returned to base for repairs.

"Shields at ten percent, sir!"

"Divert all nonessential systems. Take these bastards down, people!"

Fox's earpiece received a burst of static as another branch formed a connection. A communication officer's voice followed.

"Captain McCloud, you have a connection request from Dagger unit's assigned frequency."

Fox scoffed and shook his head. He knew it had to be Gage; who else in the universe would call him in the middle of a battle. "Go ahead."

Another burst of static followed by a more familiar voice: the firm, direct baritone of Captain Gage Birse. "Hey Fox, how's it going out there?"

A fighter's lasers pelted the Arwing, shaking it violently for a moment. Fox growled and pulled sharply to track the attacker. "I'm a little busy. There's a little scuffle going on out here in case you didn't know."

"You're busy. That's a shame. You know what I am? I'm a chainsaw in a goddamn iron mine, that's what I am."

Fox cocked an eyebrow.

"I'm useless. Get it? I don't even know why I'm on this ship. Dagger's special forces, not a bunch of pansy pilots. My entire team gets to stay home with Bravo team on active alert and here I am with my thumb up my ass watching a battle instead of taking part."

"You're here for PR, just like me. Makes people feel safe. Blame the brass for making Dagger public knowledge." Fox watched in satisfaction as the enemy who shot him sparked and exploded under his lasers. "Go grab an AA gun or something. The Vanguard's shields have been amazing so far but it can't last forever."

"Are you kidding? They have teams the size of entire ship crews for each gun. Give me something to do."

"Go mix me a drink. I'll be thirsty after all this fighting."

"Me too," Falco added.

Gage laughed sardonically. "Wow, you two are a couple of comedians. I'll make you a couple of martinis and tell you where you can stick—"

The captain was cut off for a moment as the Vanguard's power systems flickered on the brink of collapse. A blue glow once again emanated softly and disappeared: shields down. Fox felt a knot of sudden worry form in his stomach. The feeling was only worsened by a new group of ships that warped into the fray; large yet unarmed.

"This is McGarret to all Coalition forces. Dropships have just entered the war zone and are approaching the Vanguard. Security teams, take up defensive positions at every starboard access hatch and porthole. Fighters and gunners, take down those ships!"

"I guess that drink will have to wait." Fox activated his booster and swooped behind the transport nearest him. Not wasting time with subsystem targeting, he launched a smart bomb right at the main thruster. It exploded on impact, taking the entire back half of the dropship with it and sending the rest careening into deep space. "Falco, use your bombs. We don't have much time."

The dropships did not deviate or attempt to escape. The few remaining pirates tried to cover them and bought enough time for at least four to get through.

"Bridge, this is McCloud. Four ships are approaching the hull. All starboard, two fore, one center, one aft, all mid-level."

"Security teams, converge on those locations. More precise directions to follow."

Fox switched to his previous frequency. "You might have some company soon, Gage. You know…"

* * *

"…you should really be careful what you wish for."

Gage closed the frequency on his headset and muttered under his breath, "Smarmy ass."

He hefted the assault rifle he had requisitioned from the armory over his shoulder and turned, smacking into a young feline marine from the Cornerian detachment. He straightened his helmet and stared, jaw hanging slightly, at the deep crimson fox. It would have been hard to miss the Dagger patch in the sleeve of the black and gray camouflage uniform especially with the captain's bars right above it.

"I, uh…sorry, sir."

"Do I look like a sorry sir?"

"…no, sir."

Gage wasn't mad, he just liked rustling the recruits every now and then and the "sorry sir" tactic, his favorite from boot camp, was always tempting. It kept them alert and reminded them they were soldiers. "Keep your eyes open. If you can't see me, how're you planning to shoot straight?"

"Sorry, s—I apologize, sir."

The private hurried off after a quick salute. Gage's earpiece crackled to life, rapidly relaying probable locations for the dropships to attack. One more had been taken down, leaving three. One of the probable locations, Gage realized after sorting through the information, was near him. "This is Captain Birse. I'm near the starboard-seven-five access hatch. Moving to secure."

"Acknowledged, sir," the comm officer replied. "Be advised that all security teams are currently covering other areas. Significant reinforcements could be delayed."

"Roger." _Price of a ship this size. A pizza would get stone cold if you tried to deliver it aft to fore_. "Private!"

The feline marine halted and turned, his face showing fear that he had done something wrong.

"You're with me. Safety off and let's go."

The marine swallowed, a melding of pride and pre-battle anxiety setting his jaw firm. Gage led the way, picking up two more marines on the way; hardly a force to be reckoned with, but certainly a viable force to work with. After less than a minute of hard jogging through the winding corridors, they reached their destination: a T junction where the maintenance hallway intersected their corridor. Gage activated the pressure door and peeked inside after it slid open. The short corridor, no more than fifteen meters, lead to a man-sized access shaft used by engineers to access the outer hull. Gage stepped to the other side of the doorway and gestured for one marine to follow him. Two marines on each side…with one on each side crouching and one standing over him, all firing, they could possibly hold off a boarding team.

"Keep behind cover as much as possible," Gage said, standing over the crouching marine on the right side. "Call out your reloads."

"Sir?" The marine under him piped up. "Why don't we seal this door?"

"You like being in space, corporal?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well if we close this door and they breach it, we'll have no way to repressurize this sector once the flyboys blast the ship off and we'll all be sucked out. You like being in space that much?"

A moment of silence. "No, sir."

Gage caught grins from the marines on the other side. A little break in the tension was needed. Tense hands tremble and trembling hands make trembling guns and shaky nerves. After a minute, all was back to business as an eardrum-shuddering impact sounded ahead of them. Rifles poised and eyes set in sights, the Cornerian defenders waited. Heavy seconds passed until sounds of scratching echoed through the access hallway. Gage immediately knew: they weren't calling in engineers to cut the door down, they were using demolitions.

"Cover!"

The marines ducked aside as a massive explosion rocked sent a shockwave back that nearly threw them back. The warped, half-melted door shot past them and pounded against the corridor wall behind them.

"Fire at will!"

Smoke poured through the corridor, masking the invaders' approach. Gage caught a glimpse of one's clothing, a mess of stolen military gear from every branch in every camo color. The wild look in his eye and screaming battle cry left no doubt that he was a marauder of Venom space. From then on, Gage cared nothing for their uniforms or faces, only in making sure they ended up dead. He raised his rifle, already set on semi-automatic, and fired three quick shots to each chest that showed itself. The marines fired in automatic, though in short bursts. Subliminally counting his shots, Gage called out, "Reloading!" and ejected his energy mag when it had two shots left and slapped in a new one before it hit the ground. The marines followed suit, cascading their reload times so someone was always firing.

"This is Birse, we need this ship taken out now!" Gage couldn't hear his own voice any longer over the noise.

A sudden cry diverted Gage's attention for a moment; the standing marine on the left side had been hit by return fire and lay writhing on the floor. The captain gestured for the man beside him to pull him out of the line of fire. The lapse of defense allowed some of the pirates to surmount the carpet of corpses and charge the marines. Gritting his teeth, Gage stepped forward to meet the first one and smacked him aside with the butt of his rifle, a sickening crunch making its way to his bruised eardrums. He let the rifle fly away and with a glint piercing the hazy smoke, his knife entered the fray. The second pirate slumped to the ground, his heart pierced three times, while the third ran into a solid kick from Gage that sent him stumbling back into his rear under the weight of his gear. The fox crouched, his pistol, his final line of defense, in his hand. He finished off the pirate he kicked and continued to fire into the smoke. He became aware of a burning pain in his thigh but ignored it.

"Fox!" Gage's pistol clicked on empty. "Get your ass over here and blow this fu—"

A dull explosion reverberated through the metal floor. Another provoked a crying groan of twisted metal from the access hatch. Gage felt the telltale pull of a blown pressure seal. He dove to the side and punched the pressure door activation switch as a final explosion ripped the ship from its unwelcome dock. The door slid shut, blanketing the corridor with incredible silence, save the heavy breathing of the marines.

Gage holstered his pistol and knelt over the downed marine. A laser had taken him in the shoulder; a nasty, painful wound from the looks of it. The fox saw that the victim was the private from earlier. The feline tried to look tough, his jaw still set. If he clamped his mouth any tighter, Gage suspected his teeth would shatter.

"Call a medic…if there is one within a damn mile." As another marine ran off, Gage turned his attention back to the feline. "Hogging all the glory, huh? Now you have a combat wound. They're something to be proud of, more so than any medal you could ever get. Hurt much?"

The felines gasped, "No, sir."

"You lie like an honest-to-God marine." Gage thought of what else he could say to keep the soldier awake, keep him focused and away from succumbing to shock. "You did well. You all did."

The feline gave a pained half-grin and just nodded.

Gage stood and let the soldier's two fellow marines take over. He didn't want to continue anyway; he wasn't used to working with recruits and greenhorns. It had been a long time since he looked into a dying boy's eyes_…not long enough. _Even though this marine would probably recover just fine, it brought Gage back to places in his past, places he didn't want to go. Instead, he stepped aside and activated his comm. "Access hatch starboard-seven-five secure. Hull damage, but pressure is stable. One wounded." He switched frequencies. "I have you to thank for that horribly delayed rescue?"

"Sorry, yours was the last dropship. Everything's secure. Looks like the pirates are bugging out."

"Good." Gage's leg started aching tremendously. As the adrenaline wore off, the graze wound caught up with him. He slumped to the floor and groaned, more out of annoyance than pain. One of the marines saw and radioed for his squadmate to hurry with the medic. "Eh, it's just a scratch."

"You ok?" Fox asked, receiving a grunt in reply. "Bulldog squadron's still looking for payback and I wouldn't mind getting a little. They banged my Arwing up pretty bad."

"You've been bored too long."

"Yeah well, I wouldn't mind a—"

The comm crackled for a few seconds before Fox returned. "Damn it…I have to go. See you soon."

"What is it?"

"McGarret needs something else done."

Gage couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, like you told me…"

* * *

"…be careful what you wish for."

"Yeah, yeah." Fox closed the frequency and turned his ship towards the Vanguard's fore. "Smarmy ass."

"Bridge to Starfox. This is McGarret. I need a no bullshit assessment of your fighting capability."

"McCloud here. Armor's a bit banged up, capacitor's at sixty-three percent. Fit for a fight as long as it's not as big as that one."

"Lombardi. You can keep me out here all day."

McGarret's voice returned after a moment. "I need you two to link up with six fighters from Bulldog squadron at the coordinates I'm sending you now. Follow their lead. You'll be under the orders of Commander Grey, whom I believe you're familiar with. He'll fill you in on the details. Get going."

"Admiral," Falco said, "our contract has us guarding the ship, not running off and—"

"Don't pull that shit on me, Lombardi! You want to charge the military and suck it dry for ever punch and turn, that's your business. Take it up with General Pepper. Now act like the goddamn aces the galaxy thinks you are and get this mission done. Out."

When Falco muttered, "asshole," Fox lost it and had to turn his headset off before laughing out loud. Nothing reminded him of the good ol' days quite like watching officers lambaste Falco. He composed himself, still grinning, and led the way to the coordinates. He couldn't help saying, "Why don't you let me handle fee negotiations from now on?"

"Shove it."

As the duo neared the front of the Vanguard, the black, delta-winged fighters of Bulldog squadron, hidden against the eternal night of space, came into view. Fox switched his headset to the frequency given to him along with the coordinates and took his place beside Falco at the rear of the formation.

"Fox!" Bill's exuberant voice sounded in his ear. "Where were you last night? I haven't seen you for over a year, thought you were gonna come to the reunion poker game."

"Yeah, sorry. Fell asleep a little early."

"You left us with that specops dude, Gage. Brutal. You ever seen his poker face?"

"That's his normal face."

"Scary player. He cleaned us out."

"Good. If he lost, you would've woken up with your eyes missing."

Bill hesitated before laughing, as if wondering whether his friend was serious or not. "Well, we're on the clock so let's get moving. The Admiral wants us to finish this strong and hurt the pirates bad. We traced their last warp waypoint back to a small outpost, three minutes cruise-speed away. He wants us to take it out. Scans show four gun buoys guarding it. The station itself is small and lightly armored. You two take out the guns while we take out the base. They won't expect a counter-attack this soon after an ambush." He sighed in a satisfied way. "I nearly forgot what it was like to serve under high brass who still had their guts. Any questions?"

The seven fighters behind him answered with negatives.

"Take up cruise formation and synchronize with my signal. Three…two…one…mark."

The formation, each ship guided by the leader's speed and direction increased velocity drastically, leaving the Vanguard behind. Fox found comfort in cruise speed, reserved for when a ship is too far away for normal throttle and too close for a full jump. The gentle rumble of the engine felt like a massage while space passed by like scenery outside a car window without the nearly vomit-inducing blur of jump speed. He took in a deep breath and released it in two quick huffs, focusing himself for one more fight.

"Disengaging," Bill said. "Prepare for conflict."

Rapid deceleration jarred the Arwing gently; space returned to normal and control was restored. The Bulldog fighters in front of Fox split off in a perfect, graceful formational break, giving him clear view of the small space station ahead. It appeared in no better shape than the pirates' attack vessels, which only strengthened the concern in the back of Fox's mind. How did they jump so precisely? How did so many come together? Why risk an attack on the Vanguard?

"Falco," Fox said, eyeing the four gun buoys surrounding the base, "take the two on the left. I'll get the right."

"On my way."

Though Fox had experience with buoys, he never relished confronting them. With their longer range, they were almost always guaranteed at least two shots. It became a deadly game of dodge-the-laser to get within firing distance. With loose hands and unblinking eyes, he pulled sharply to avoid two bursts before his lock indicator turned green. His own return burst reduced the buoy to dust.

With Bulldog already on their approach, he boosted to the next buoy while its turret turned towards him and fired. He dodged burst number one…burst number two…but then came an unexpected burst number three just before his display flashed green. The lasers impacted his port side and wing, setting off alert warnings and throwing him off course. He abandoned the run and pulled away, shots from the buoy still chasing him. The Arwing's port capacitor had been fried, automatically putting the ship in life support mode, which didn't include his locking and tracking systems.

Falco's voice crackled in his ear. "Fox, pull out!"

"I got it!" Fox snapped back. _A buoy…I'm not going to be taken out of the fight by a freaking buoy_. "Just have to do it the hard way."

Fox pulled into a sharp U-turn to reengage, no reticules or data streaming across his display. Just him, space, and the buoy. He approached, dodging each blast including the now-anticipated third burst. Basing his shot on pure instinct, he let loose. His lasers missed low but compensated as Fox pulled up. The final laser in the volley struck the buoy, cutting off its lower half and deactivating it without any satisfying pyrotechnics. Fox contemplated loosing another volley for revenge, but opted to save his power.

Bulldog provided the fireworks instead. Fox turned to watch them do what they did best. After two runs of lasers and bombs, a chain reaction swelled forth from the breached power subsystem. After multiple smaller explosions, the base erupted in a fleeting ball of oxygen-fueled fire before whispering away and leaving only debris and dead pirates. The comm channel broke out in whoops of victory.

Bill's voice rose above the chatter. "Good job Bulldogs, Starfox. Bridge, this is Bulldog Actual reporting mission accomplished. All targets neutralized. Requesting permission to come home."

A female voice responded, the first woman Fox had heard from the Vanguard. Her voice was like an angelic message that the day's work was finally done. "Permission granted, Bulldog. Admiral McGarret would like you and Captain McCloud to attend the formal debrief in one hour. Over and out."

As the Bulldogs formed up, Bill asked, "Your ship alright, Fox?"

"It'll make it." His mind wandered elsewhere. Mention of the debrief reminded him of the strange message on their screens just before the attack. Would he find out what they were at the debrief? Suddenly, an hour seemed too long. Any mention of Venom was bad enough, but it didn't seem like pirate work. Pirates marauded and plundered, they didn't send pseudo-poems through highly-encrypted communication channels.

Though the day had been won, Fox's mind was far from eased. With a glance aside at the small green ball that represented Venom far in the distance, he followed his fellow pilots home.

_-Chapter 2 coming soon-_


	3. A Soldier's Rise: 1

Author's Note: I'm doing something a bit different with this fic. This is the first of the "A Soldier's Rise" series. Basically, these shorter between-chapter sections are interludes to the main story and serve to show the background of Gage, following him from new recruit to Dagger leader. I figured he finally deserved to have his story told and since the fic focuses on Fox, the interludes can serve Gage. Generally, these interludes take place in the time span between chapters and are not critical to the main story. If for some reason you really don't like them, you can skip them without fear of being out of the loop of the main story arc. But for those who have asked about Gage or wondered who the man truly is, here's his story.

One other thing: Each interlude will have an accompanying picture, once again chronicling Gage's army life in simple sketches. They will grow in complexity and content as Gage himself grows. They're not done by me, but rather LeonaWindrider whom you can find on Devinatart. I know used to have a problem with links, so I won't try it. If you're interested in the pics, just punch 'leonawindrider devinatart' into a search engine and it should be up top somewhere. If not, don't worry about it, it's all just an extra feature.

Thanks for reading and enjoy! -Foxmerc

-

**A Soldier's Rise**

Part 1

-

"What's the verdict, Doc? Will he make it?"

Fox grinned as the elderly avian medic finished tightening the bandage around Gage's leg. The captain rolled his eyes, strumming his fingers impatiently on the examination table where he sat. Simply the mention of an infirmary usually proved enough to annoy him, whether it be because of admitting he needed medical attention or because he had been under a medic's care so often it became like a movie he'd seen a hundred times over.

"He'll be okay this time," the doctor responded, gesturing to Gage that he was finished. He turned back to the console where Gage's medical records were listed. "The future could be different. I must say, I've never seen such a large file for one man. You've been lucky so far, but it can't hold out forever. Try to be more careful."

The fox quickly pulled his pants on and started on his boots. "If I was careful, I wouldn't be a soldier. We can stop with these fun visits when people stop shooting at me."

"Maybe you should think about retiring to a desk position."

Gage laughed. "No one in Dagger retires. We each have our day where some lucky shot or faulty landing retires us forcefully."

Fox frowned in thought and nodded. "Deep thought. Were those little stars on your boxers?"

"Shut up." Gage bent his leg to try out the flexibility of the bandage on his thigh and make sure it wouldn't hinder his movement. "When can I take this thing off?"

The doctor had closed the file on the console after adding his notes. "Twenty-four hours at least. The burn was nothing serious but I want to keep it protected from infection."

The fox peered past the curtain that separated his examination table from the others, towards the rear infirmary door that led to the intensive care wards. His face lost all traces of annoyance. "Did you receive a marine with a bad shoulder wound?"

"We received a number of soldiers and pilots after the skirmish. Shoulder wound…ah yes. Private First Class Connelly, eighteen years old. Rifle laser took him just under the joint and singed the bone rather badly."

"Will he recover?"

"Recuperation will be rather painful but I believe so, yes. The Vanguard carries all the equipment of a large hospital on board. I doubt he'll even be discharged or sent home."

"Good." Gage scratched the back of his head, contemplating whether to go back or not. "Just, uh…just give him my regards, will you?"

"I will. Now go on, and come see me tomorrow if the wound develops any irritation or swelling."

With a nod, the captain squeezed past waiting patients and carts of medical supplies, Fox tailing him. Back in the metallic, elongated hexagonal corridor, Gage looked at his watch: nearly thirty minutes until Admiral McGarret's debrief.

"What's the story with that marine in there?" Fox asked. "You…didn't shoot him, did you?"

"Yeah. I was so bored I decided to hide in the wiring ducts and shoot passing marines. It's the right season after all." Gage looked at the wall signs to get his bearings then led the way through the living traffic of engineers, patrols, and other personnel scurrying to bring the ship back to pristine status.

Fox jogged to catch up with him. "Well? What's the story?"

"There's no story. He defended the hatch with me while we waited on you wonderful pilots and he got shot. That's it."

"I don't think that's it. I've seen you after you lost men completely and you weren't exactly broken up."

Gage glanced at him sideways as they walked.

"I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. I'm not saying you didn't care. Military discipline, blah blah, I know. It's just—"

"He reminded me of someone," Gage cut in. "Not really someone, more like something. A time."

He suddenly turned left, a door swishing open for him. Fox saw that he had entered this sector's practice range. In the large, gymnasium-sized room, twenty shooter lanes opened up towards the right with the left wall lined with ammunition and weapon cabinets. Each cabinet remained locked with a keypad on the side for officer codes. The range lay empty, the ship's crew involved with more important matters than plinking. Gage approached one of the cabinets, punched in his four-digit code, and opened the sliding door when the chime prompted him. He scanned the inventory, took six black pistol clips, and approached a lane in the middle.

Fox leaned against the lane divider and watched as Gage hit a button before him, calling from the back wall a blue plastic polymer silhouette target. After slapping in a new clip and listening to the quick, rising whine of a full charge, he aimed and fired two shots. The first struck the target in the extreme bottom while the second, a noticeably thinner beam, missed altogether. The gun fizzled.

"Damn it." Gage ejected the clip and lowered the pistol. In five seconds, worked with deft hands, the pistol lay in a dozen pieces on the lane ammo table. "I knew I screwed this thing up in the fight. Give me a second, I want to repair this before the debrief."

Fox watched as his friend examined and cleaned each piece. His eyes lost focus for a few minutes as his mind wandered. Finally, he said, "You remember how we met?"

"Sure. I pissed you off, you pissed me off, I shot you. Good times."

"Right. Since then, I've told you a lot about me. The only things I really know about you are that you had a brother, you're a career soldier, and you named your pistol Black Beauty."

Gage's head shot up and he looked around to make sure there was still no one in earshot. "Stop mentioning that! I swear, if you tell anyone, I'll let Black Beauty talk to you herself, get it?"

"All I'm saying is…" Fox sighed and gathered his thoughts again. "Each member of Starfox is a dear friend. So are Bill Grey and General Pepper. And I consider you a close friend as well. I just wish I knew more about who you were before this. Call it curiosity."

"Bill Grey," Gage mused, tinkering with the gun's release switch. "Isn't he the Bulldog pilot who lost two month's pay to me?"

"Yeah. He really loved playing with you by the way."

Gage laughed. "I'll bet." As he clicked the barrel and power coupling together, he stopped for a moment and sighed through his nose. "You still talking about my reaction to the marine?"

"It got me thinking. You said he reminded you of a time."

The fellow fox was quiet for a few seconds. When he spoke, his voice sounded lower, looser, like it did in the infirmary. "I don't usually see them that young anymore. Greenhorns come in and clean up after me and my team are long gone. Hard to believe it was only ten years ago. I joined up when I was eighteen; a skinny, scared, confused recruit. My father was a military man, or so said my mother. I never met him; he died when I was two. I was failing left and right at school, part-time jobs, all that. I wanted to do him proud."

"What does your mother think of you now?"

Gage shrugged. "I wouldn't know. She died the second day of the attack on Corneria City. We lived in a tenement complex; skyscraper toppled over and crushed the entire block. I didn't find out for a long time. Lots of bodies for the emergency crews to sift through. I was already deployed."

"Sorry."

Gage waved the apology off. "It fuels me. I was in boot camp a while before that, though. Couldn't do push-ups, sit-ups, chin-ups, couldn't shoot, couldn't fight. I was the worst soldier in our platoon. There was a pool going as to how long I'd last. I used to get picked on a lot at school so I figured a side benefit of joining the Army would be learning how to handle myself. Instead, I just became the laughing stock again."

"Wow…Gage Birse picked on. That's a stretch."

A grin pulled at the corner of Gage's mouth and he half-laughed. He began putting his pistol back together. "Shooting was the worst, though. The gun scared me; the noise, the kick, the potential for harm. I couldn't wrack up the nerve to hold the thing right, let alone put a shot between the eyes." With the gun reassembled, Gage slid a new clip in and took aim. He didn't fire immediately. "I remember that training range clear as day. The other recruits around me got kill shots one after the other, and me…"

Gage pulled the trigger—

* * *

—and nearly dropped the gun as the energy release made it kick in his hand. The shot went high, missing the target completely and nearly hitting the dampening ceiling. Gage swallowed hard.

"Birse!"

At the booming call of his surname, Gage dropped the gun on the ammo table and stood upright attention. Within moments, he could feel the hulking Master Sergeant Hulik behind him. He about-faced and stood muzzle-to-chest with the ursine sergeant. Hesitantly, he began to look up.

"Don't you look at me, Birse! I don't want whatever goddamn disease you have that makes you hell's gift to shooting entering my lungs. You want me to get my goddamn grandmother down here to show you how to be a soldier?"

Gage swallowed again to find his voice and said meekly, "Sorry, sergeant."

"Do I look like a sorry sergeant? The only thing sorry around here is your performance in every aspect of Army life! You're an utter disgrace to Corneria's fighting men! Why the hell did you join the Army? To make everyone else look good?"

"I…" Gage breathed in, waiting for his pounding heart to subside. "I want to...be a soldier, sergeant."

"Well, welcome to the goddamn Army, Birse! You think you can sign up and become a soldier just like that? Let me tell you something: from what I've seen the past two weeks, you will never amount to anything! The most you could pray to achieve is taking a laser between the eyes to shield a real soldier! Now get back to that sidearm and pretend that you're a man!"

Gage about-faced again and picked up the Army-issue pistol before him. He tried to fight back tears as he lifted it, heavy as a truck under the strain of his own failure. He aimed and eased the trigger back. His mind raced, visions of home and his mother beckoning him to quit this fool's attempt at soldiering. But what truly waited for him back home? What would his father have though? Could he bear to once again hang his head in failure, the laughing stock all who knew him?

He pulled the trigger all the way back—

* * *

—and nodded in satisfaction as three quick taps, two to the chest and one to the head, found their precise marks. "Good. Dead on. Must've been clogged by small debris from the blast."

Fox pushed himself off the divider and stepped back as Gage holstered the pistol and gathered the spent clips. "So how did you continue? How did you pull a career of being a soldier out of that?"

"Wasn't easy. I sucked all through boot camp. I came to terms with it and really found my mark after boot, though, in my first battle."

"Yeah? What happened?"

"Sorry, the interrogation's over." Gage locked the ammo cabinet once more and looked at his watch. "We have to get to the debriefing. Maybe I'll tell you some other time. And hey, don't tell anyone we had this little pow-wow, ok?"

Fox grinned. "Don't worry. You and Black Beauty are safe with me."


	4. A Dangerous Road

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews so far and I hope to be able to update more frequently. Optimal schedule would be more like a few days between chapter and interlude and then the next chapter within the next week, if not sooner. I'm really liking this story and since ironing a few hard points out I've found progressing easier. As always, thanks for reading and enjoy! -Foxmerc

-

CHAPTER 2  
A Dangerous Road  
_LDC Vanguard, far Macbeth orbit  
1718 hours_

-

Gage checked his watch as he and Fox approached the briefing room: just over a minute late. The blue-trimmed door slid open and they were greeted by silence, a welcome change from the hectic corridors filled with busy engineers, medics, and soldiers. The briefing room descended via wide, semi-circle multi-tiered seating to a stage with a screen behind it. Each tier of seats included desks, personal viewscreens, and digital pens for taking and storing notes. Though the room was large enough to seat a few hundred, only about half were taken, mostly by high-ranking officers. A few glanced back as the two newcomers entered and took seats at the highest tier.

After a few minutes of Gage twiddling the digital pen in his fingers, Admiral McGarret entered from the other side of the auditorium, prompting the officers to snap up to attention. Fox followed out of courtesy.

"As you were," McGarret said as he took his place at the podium. Fox had seen many pictures of him, but his presence became clear in person; the elderly gray lupine need only stand at the front of the room to gain the rapt attention of the officers. The crisp white uniform, decorated like a wreath with medals and ribbons, fit the stern demeanor and wary, soldier's eyes. He placed his hat on the podium and looked out over the auditorium. "This debrief is not only to discuss the battle that took place today, but also where the Vanguard stands. I have a call in a half hour with the LDC representatives to discuss further actions. They have to be careful; the galactic media has already gotten wind of the battle and you can bet they'll be boosting their viewer ratings by reporting how the big, mean Vanguard has been beating up on the helpless outer-galaxy folks. You all know there are two things to count on in war: the enemy shooting at you and the press lying about you."

Chuckles and grumbles followed for a few seconds.

"But I don't care about that. Let the LDC handle the talking heads. I'm satisfied with the way you men commanded your stations today and I'm proud of the soldiers and pilots under you. This battle was a good way of testing this vessel's capabilities and I'm certain future combat will be more efficient and effective. I know the pirates will think twice." He hit a button on the podium and the screen behind him flashed to life, showing a large shot of the mysterious poem that Fox had seen before the battle. It chilled his spine to see it again. "This, however, I'm not happy about. I've already conversed with the engineering teams and I've made it clear to them that I want to know who sent this crap, where they sent it from, and how it managed to get on my goddamn screens and fluctuate the power on my goddamn ship. While they do their work, I want tight lips about this. It could be a melodramatic whacko or it could be a melodramatic whacko who's a true threat. Mister McCloud has reported that this signal was received by the Great Fox as well. McCloud, I trust that you'll report to me if anything like this happens again."

Fox scooted up in his seat, not sure if he should answer or not. An elbow in the gut from Gage answered his question. "Uh, yes, sir."

"Good. Apart from this security breach, the Vanguard is in for a few repairs, but nothing that hinders normal operation. We have enough engineers on this ship for a small fleet and they're all working. The ship is not my concern; my concern lies with the pirates. It was ballsy for them to attack, but that's not rare amongst pirates. Formation, discipline, focused attacks, astrophysical anomalous space jumps…those things are rare. It gives evidence of strict military training and great scientific backing. Scans of Venom show most of the surface is still devoid of life, let alone military facilities, so those of you wondering if Andross' ugly face is going to pop back from the dead can rest at ease. This isn't his style anyway. He loved swarms and sheer numbers; this was far more tactical. Barker!"

A feline lieutenant on the second tier stood attention. "Yes, sir!"

"I want you and Avery to form an intelligence team devoted to the pirates' tactics. Send a list of suggested personnel and required equipment to the bridge within ninety minutes. Cross reference their fighting maneuvers with known mercenaries and standing armies."

"Yes, sir." He sat again.

"As for the rest of you, I want you to maintain your stations on high alert until otherwise notified. I'll read your reports and give the LDC my recommendation based on them. Any questions?"

No response.

"Keep up the good work, gentlemen." McGarret paused for a moment. "Funeral services for the lost pilots will be held tomorrow morning. Dismissed."

* * *

"Mail call! Crews report to designated mess hall."

Fox glanced up at the speaker on the wall and wrinkled his nose. "Did he just say mail call? Seriously?"

"Yup." Gage gestured for him to follow and joined the crowd moving towards the sector's mess hall. "Ever since the war, the brass encouraged military families to write out letters and mail them instead of using e-mail and to send care packages. Having something tangible that one can hold on to apparently greatly boosts morale. I dunno, whatever works I guess. The transport ship must have docked before the battle."

The sector's mess hall, a gymnasium-sized room of meticulously arranged tables, benches, and buffets, could easily have seated Fox's entire graduating class at the academy, and it was only one mess hall of half a dozen on the ship. Though he had grown used to the size of the ship, he still blinked in surprise. The quartermaster stood on a table more or less in the center and gestured for the crew and soldiers to gather around. Gage and Fox, neither expecting anything, stood in the back and simply watched the spectacle, each glad to see a rise in spirit for the first time that day.

The quartermaster, a young feline who looked like a lone police officer trying to calm a riot scene, began shouting out names. When a hand was raised, a box was flung or a letter passed. The soldiers enjoyed it, clamoring around the recipients of the big care packages and poking fun at one who received a pink envelope from a lover back home. Nearly ten minutes later, the bags of mail were starting to wear thin. Finally, a name caught Fox's ear that snapped him out of his trance.

"Hare! Peppy Hare!"

Fox furrowed his brow. Who would send a physical letter to Peppy through the Vanguard? His wife certainly wrote some romantic prose – Fox had accidentally seen Peppy's e-mail a few times – but she had never sent a letter. He shrugged and stepped forward. "I'll take it for him!"

The letter exchanged hands until it was passed to him. He looked it over: crisp white envelope, thin enough to only contain a piece of paper, and sure enough, Peppy's home return address back on Corneria. Fox supposed that even Peppy's wife guessed her husband could use a bit of morale. He tucked the letter into his jacket pocket and turned to see Gage gone. With mail call over, the crew drifted out of the mess hall, but a small group of marines had gathered around one canine soldier sitting at a table. Fox spotted Gage there as well and approached.

"Aw, man," the feline soldier breathed, turning the magazine in his hands sideways and pulling the folds open. Fox caught a glimpse of a blue vixen bending over and looking at the camera with sultry eyes, clad in nothing more than a loincloth and bra. "The centerfold went tribal this month. Remember last month? The mechanic theme and the thing she did with the wrench? I thought nothing could beat that. Look at her hand around that staff…"

Mutters of approval from the soldiers, most too busy staring hungrily at the centerfold, rose from the crowd. Two female marines rolled their eyes and left. Even Gage's often commanding presence could not defeat the draw of the magazine model, though the soldiers made room for him rather quickly.

"What's with the blue?" Gage asked.

"You never heard of her, sir?" another marine piped in. "That's Kristine "Krystal" Sherwood. She keeps her fur dyed blue like that all the time as her trademark. I don't think anyone even knows what color she really is, except her makeup team. She's won modeling contests all over the galaxy for years. I think she's starting to get into singing also. I hear she has a great voice."

"Yeah, I'm sure her fans all flock to hear her voice and not ogle that astounding rack."

"She could sound like a table saw and I'd still kill to see her in person." The marine turned the centerfold around to more angles, giving his buddies clearer views of the very prominent breasts and rear. "I like the caveman look."

"I'll bet." Gage clapped the soldier on the shoulder. "Well, you all have fun and try not to make too much noise. I prefer my models a bit more subtle and classy, leaving more to the imagination."

"Really, sir?"

"No, but I have things to do." He waved the soldier down as he and his comrades stood to salute and rejoined Fox by the door. The mess hall had grown quiet except for the magazine appreciators and a light waft of food emanated from the kitchens preparing for the evening meal.

"Well, I better get back to the Great Fox," Fox said, holding the letter up. "Peppy's gonna want to see—"

He was cut off as a quick hand snatched the letter from him. With a rough bump against Fox's shoulder, a figure stepped past him: a black jaguar, clad in a brown camouflage uniform with captain's ranks on the shoulder epaulets and an unfamiliar emblem on his sleeve. When he turned, Fox noticed twenty or so medals and ribbons above his left breast pocket, an impressive amount for what appeared to be a young captain, though at least Gage's age. His green eyes glared out from the black fur directly at Gage, though his first words were directed at Fox.

"What's this?" he said with a Titanian accent. "Another commendation for getting the most news time? A thank-you note from the generals for flying around while men fought and died on the ground?"

Gage snatched the letter back and handed it to Fox, a smirk meeting the ire. "It's from one of his many girlfriends. Maybe one day you'll know what that's like."

"Still with the insults. Typical Cornerian, tromping around like they own the galaxy."

"God, not this again. When the hell did you come aboard anyway?"

"Last cargo ship. The LDC wanted more of an 'inter-planetary presence' on the Vanguard. I guess they wanted to remind the galaxy that other planets exist besides Corneria." The feline's eyes again fixed on Fox. "And that other planets fought against Andross."

Fox, eyes wide in confusion against the sudden attacks, raised his hands. "What's going on? Who the hell are you?"

Gage sighed. "Fox McCloud, meet Captain Rourke. He's commander of Sigil, the top special forces unit of Titania. You could call them Dagger's counterpart, but they don't operate on quite so…subtle a level."

"A very Cornerian way of saying it," Rourke spat. "Where are all your medals anyway, Birse? We may not have parades and ceremonies, but I know that Dagger receives commendations. Don't tell me the great Captain Gage Birse doesn't have a whole slew of medals."

"I guess I just don't have as many as you." Gage winked at Fox. "As you can see, he's just bitter because Corneria saved Titania's ass during the war."

Rourke apparently didn't recognize the joking bait. He scowled. "You're all about that, aren't you?! We fought to the last man on our home soil and were doing just fine until you Cornerian white knights showed up. You and the mercenary poster boy here just can't stand that not everyone reveres you."

"Yeah, we cry about it every night. Look, the mission was over a year ago. Can you act like a goddamn soldier and drop it? The brass makes the calls."

Fox, almost afraid to open his mouth as it might start a fight, asked, "What happened a year ago?"

Both captains spoke at the same time. Rourke shut his mouth and sarcastically gestured for Gage to continue, which he did. "I know I can trust you, but it's lightly classified, so shut up about it. A cargo ship full of weapons was taken over by Andross' remnant forces in orbit halfway between Titania and Fortuna. Both planetary governments called for a boarding party and Sigil was tasked with it. At the last second, Fortuna insisted on calling in Dagger because they felt Sigil wasn't experienced enough. Sigil was promised equal jurisdiction but in the end they sat on the sidelines while Dagger took back the ship."

"Good ole Corneria, always helping out us backwater planets," Rourke said, sarcasm unmistakable.

"I recommended that Sigil be involved, but the brass said no. What more do you want? I got news for you. We had a big battle today, and it could be the first of many. If we're ever tasked to work together, this kind of friction is unacceptable. You get me? Get over it or get out of here."

"You know what I want." Rourke folded his arms. "I want to prove that Sigil's captain can match Dagger's, that a Titanian is as good as any Cornerian. I want a duel."

Fox wasn't sure he heard right. A duel? Could this soldier be serious? He glanced at both of them in turn; his fellow vulpine didn't seem all that surprised but still shook his head in exasperation.

"You've got to be kidding. First of all, Admiral McGarret would court-martial both of us. Secondly, one of could get seriously injured. Thirdly, you can't win."

"Oh, what's this? Gage Birse running scared? Afraid to actually prove your reputation? Or is it all just talk to begin with?"

Gage's jaw set. Dead quiet hung in the air; even the soldiers at the table had stopped staring at Krystal to pay attention to the dispute. Feeling the pressure of his response, he finally spoke. "Range, five minutes. No one else."

A glint of excitement in his eye, Rourke turned on his heel and left. The soldiers snapped their heads away from Gage before the captain could see them eavesdropping.

"Are you both nuts?" Fox lashed as Gage stormed away and he jogged to follow. "Are you seriously going to duel?"

"It's not like that. It was an old gambling thing between special forces soldiers back in the day but it's been outlawed after a few…injuries. The two duelers wear laser-proof vests and helmets and use low output blasters, typically police issue. Then it's like old cowboy movies; stand fifteen paces apart, face each other, try to get the other guy to draw first, and see who nails the other quickest."

Fox blinked. "You specops guys are insane, you know that?"

"Yeah, well, you have to be to take the job."

"What if a shot hits your face? What if the vest fails? A hundred things could go wrong."

"Sometimes they do. That's why only the highest trained soldiers did it; you have to trust that your opponent is good enough to hit you square in the chest."

"Do you trust Rourke to shoot well?"

"I trust him to shoot."

It seemed to Fox that he was running laps around the ship; the range, to the briefing room, to the mess hall, then back to the range. As long as he didn't end up back in the briefing room until after a good night's sleep, he didn't mind. As they neared the range, he hesitated at the sound of voices. The door slid open, revealing a range much more populated than it had been earlier that day. A couple dozen soldiers and crewmen mulled around the weapon cabinets and leaned against the walls. Their conversations hushed as Gage entered. The captain, visibly annoyed, spotted Rourke near one of the stalls and approached him.

"I said no one else," he growled.

"Don't look at me. Some were already here, others just trickled in. I suppose we were a bit loud in the mess hall. What, afraid of a little audience? You don't sound too confident." He shoved a black vest and helmet into Gage's chest.

"Not a problem," the fox said. He then raised his voice louder. "These men are pretty smart; they know that if anyone informs the Admiral of this, I'll hunt him down and feed him his own heart."

A few nervous chuckles followed as Gage donned the vest and slid the helmet onto his head, easing his ears through the slots. When his gear was tightened to his preference, he took his pistol from his thigh holster and laid it on the stall's counter. "Mine's too heavy. We need lighter outputs."

The jaguar had been prepared. He raised two black and gray two-tone pistols and offered one to Gage. "Rainier Seven…low enough?"

Gage took the pistol and looked it over with a grimace. "Barely. Let's get this over with."

The onlookers crowded around the stalls as the two captains hopped over the counters and walked out onto the range itself where the dampener-padded walls would absorb any errant shots. They positioned themselves about fifteen paces from each other, pistols in their holsters and stood loose and ready.

"You know the rules," Rourke said. "Second to draw wins if he hits. First to draw only wins if he hits before the other fires."

Fox watched as the two captains settled into their stances and stared each other down, fingers twitching over their pistol grips. Dead silence settled over the range, somehow even quieter than when the room was empty earlier. The audience stared without breathing, the captains stared without blinking. Somewhere out in the corridor, an announcement sounded over the speakers, muffled by the door. A minute passed, then two, neither shooter blinking or yielding or even appearing to breathe.

Finally, the outcome came about so fast, Fox was glad he didn't blink either or he would have missed it. Rourke went for his gun and Gage was quick to follow. Their arms blurred, too quick for Fox to see who was fastest to raise, but only a single laser pierced the still air. When the shot's echo died down, the onlookers gasped and muttered amongst themselves.

A smoking hole had ravaged the cloth overlay of Gage's vest, right over his heart.

As Rourke grinned, his brow furrowed as the soldiers and crewmembers stared at Gage's gun, questioning utterances rising from them. Fox looked as well. The trigger was fully depressed under Gage's forefinger but no shot had fired. Upon closer inspection, the small power light above the safety was not even on…the gun did not even have an energy clip in it. Gage had fired an empty gun. At some point before the duel, he had ejected the clip. There was no way to know who fired first.

"What the…" Rourke lowered his gun as his counterpart did as well. "Why the hell didn't you fire?"

Gage winced in pain as he tossed the gun to the ground; the heat of the shot must still have penetrated the vest to cause at least some bad discomfort. "You may be an asshole and we may be from different planets, but we're still allies in a galaxy filled with enemies. And I don't shoot at allies. Ever. Least of all for my own pride." He removed his helmet and tossed it onto the ground beside the pistol. "You've got a lot to learn about being a fucking soldier."

Gage hopped back over the counter, the watching soldiers scrambling to make room. He retrieved his own pistol, ripped off the ruined vest, and went for the door. Fox noticed a glint of metal and looked towards the vest; something had dropped out. He knelt over the vest and noticed a small green ribbon commendation, no bigger than his fingeclaw. The clasp had snapped when Gage took the vest off. Fox recognized it as the only commendation Gage ever wore. He hurried to catch up to the captain.

"Hey!" Fox caught up to him some distance down the corridor. "Hang on a second!"

Gage stopped and turned, obviously still annoyed at the whole proceeding.

"How's your chest?"

"Nothing big." He allowed a chuckle and shook his head. "Told you he'd shoot."

"I thought you said specops always used to do this."

"Some did. Dagger didn't."

Fox held out the ribbon. "You dropped this."

Gage's face softened as he took it. "Thanks. Would've sucked to lose this."

"It's the only one you wear. What's it for?"

"Maybe I'll tell you someday if you get me drunk enough."

Fox laughed. "Shouldn't be hard. Why don't you wear more? Like he said, you typically work under the radar but you still get the medals without all the pomp and circumstance."

"I don't have as many as you think. If I did, I might wear them."

"Well, if you're done showing me the sights here on the Vanguard, I should get back to the Great Fox. I still have to give this letter to Peppy."

"Go ahead. I'll catch you later."

The two shook hands and Fox disappeared down the corridor into the throng of crewmen coming and going. With a sigh and a rub at his pained chest, Gage began the laborious trip back to his quarters. In truth, the lifts and high-velocity passenger tubes, much like a highly advanced subway system, made travel around the gargantuan ship more feasible. He found himself in his designated crew quarters in just under ten minutes.

The door to his room slid shut behind him, prompting the automatic light. It was no five-star hotel, but certainly was amongst the top quarters Gage had ever stayed in. In his years serving aboard submarines, cargo ships, remote outposts, and downright hostile territory, anything with lights, running water, and a decent bed was good enough. This room had them all in a tight but adequate ten-by-ten space.

Gage looked down at the broken ribbon on his palm and sighed. He knelt and felt around under his bed until his fingers gripped a wooden box. He slid it out, a small, flat box of polished wood about the width of the sink by his head. He popped open the brass clasp and lifted the lid. Lying amongst the red velvet lining were layers upon layers of medals, ribbons, badges, previous rank insignias, and commendation letters. Gage had lost count a while before and didn't concern himself enough to keep track.

He placed the ribbon down amongst the myriad other ribbons and medals and allowed himself a single moment of appreciation and pride before closing the lid and sliding the box back into its hiding spot.

* * *

Once aboard the Great Fox, his Arwing's engine powering down in a whining decrescendo, Fox let out a long breath. It had been a long, exhausting day and his head was starting to feel it. He figured on snagging some leftovers, maybe a hard drink from the rec room bar, and going to his room before anything else came up that needed his attention. The trip escorting the Vanguard had started to take an unwelcome turn down a dangerous road and if there was one thing he learned from the past, it was to grab rest when it was available.

But first thing's first…he patted his jacket pocket and felt the crinkle of the letter.

He found Peppy in the recreation room, nodding off on the couch with the news flashing across the wall viewscreen. Fox picked up the remote and, heeding the admiral's warning, switched it off. The sudden lack of light and sound made Peppy blink awake with a snort. He rubbed his eyes and looked up.

"Oh, Fox, didn't think you'd be back yet. Falco was looking for you."

"What for?" His heart sunk momentarily, fearing another problem.

"Poker. Bill wanted to win his money back. I suppose you two make better targets than Captain Birse."

Fox chuckled. "Why do you think I never play when he's there? So he's back on the Vanguard?"

Peppy nodded. "Slippy already went to bed. All that techno-whatsit today must've fried his brain. I guess I should turn in, too."

"Not so fast. I got you a little present." Fox whipped the letter out, brandishing it like a magician with his trick card. "Looks like the little lady's been missing you."

Peppy cocked an eye and glanced back and forth from the letter to Fox's face. "What is that? It's from my Amelia? Really? Where did you get it?"

Fox smiled as the old hare's face lit up. "Mail call on the Vanguard. You know, morale, that kind of thing. Could be from your son, maybe."

"Well don't tease me, boy, give it here!" Peppy snatched the letter and stared down at it, as if appreciating a treasure. "You know, Everett graduates from the Academy next year. His instructors say he's a chip off the ole block. Turns out he wants to specialize as a search and rescue pilot. It takes a special kind of person to take such a risk to save people. I'm so proud of him."

"Well, if you were half as good at being a father to him as you were to me, it's no surprise."

Peppy smiled at the compliment and gazed at the letter for a few more moments before laughing out loud. "I don't even want to open it. Ripping it would be like breaking a gift from Amelia." He hesitated. "I know I've told you this before, Fox, but you've been giving too much to this job. Your father was a devoted man but even he found time to raise a good family. Trust me…at the end of your life, you'll find that the ones you love are what truly matter, not how much money Starfox made."

"I know. But the job…it's not like I can come home at five and toss down my briefcase. I missed my father, a lot. And…well, look where his job got his family. I don't blame him, I just don't want to do that to someone."

"I just want you to be open to let someone else make that decision for herself. If it's love, she'll take that risk.

Fox could only nod. As his friend finally ripped an edge of the envelope and started to open it, the thoughts of love made him smile. "I don't know about me, but I think we found the perfect woman for Gage. Some magazine model famous throughout Lylat for her…assets."

"Oh?" Peppy slid the letter from the envelope and started to read it.

"Yeah. Her modeling name is Krystal and she keeps her fur completely dyed blue all the time. Someone that crazy and fanatically devoted to her job would be perfect for him. I can just see them now, going to…are you okay?"

Peppy's face had turned pale gray under his fur and his eyes stared at the paper in what appeared to be fear. His mouth hung open and the hand holding the letter started to quiver.

"Peppy? Peppy, talk to me for God's sake."

The hare closed his mouth and swallowed methodically. He blinked once, twice, and started breathing again. When he spoke, his first words came as rasps and slowly built strength. "Nothing, it's…it's nothing. Just some…surprising news."

"Is anything wrong? Is the family okay?"

"Yes, yes, yes, they're fine."

"Well, what is it then?"

Peppy shook his head. He folded the letter, placed it back in the envelope, and held it tightly. "I'm tired. We'll talk tomorrow. Please, just…please let me be alone."

Without another word, Peppy turned and left the recreation room.

Fox was left to gape at the door. He considered pursuing to find out what could have upset him so bad, but he knew that sometimes a person just needed privacy. Finding himself alone once more, he sighed and remembered that he had been in the middle of joking about Gage and the centerfold model.

"Well, I thought it was funny," he said to the empty room. The sudden breaking of his good mood reminded him of his self-made promise of leftovers and a drink and he strode to the bar for that very attainable goal.

_-Chapter 3 coming soon- (And to anyone concerned one way or another over the Krystal reference, I ask you to trust me. It is actually going somewhere :))  
_


	5. Codename Phoenix

Author's Note: Nothing much to say for this chapter. The plot thickens! Thanks as always to readers and reviewers. -Foxmerc

-

CHAPTER 3  
Codename Phoenix  
_Great Fox, Galley  
0905 hours_

-

"Peppy's gone."

Fox sighed through his nose. It wasn't the best way to start his morning, but he expected the worst after seeing the way Peppy reacted to the letter he received the previous night. Fox couldn't shake the feeling that something bad happened to the hare's son or wife, but he knew it had to be something else. If it was that serious, Peppy wouldn't have hid it and definitely wouldn't have simply run off. Instead, Fox awoke to find Slippy and Falco in the galley, the avian munching on a piece of dry toast, sitting and mulling over what could have happened.

"All we found was this note," Slippy continued. He passed on a small sheet of paper ripped from a pad. "What happened?"

The worried fox took the paper and glanced at the hasty scribbles:

_Had to go. Don't Worry. Sorry._

"He got a letter through the Vanguard last night." Fox crumpled up the note and tossed it on the dining table. The curt, hurried wording only worried him more. "It was from his wife, Amelia. I don't know…something he read upset him but he wouldn't tell me."

Slippy seemed to be thinking the same as Fox. "He would've told us if something happened to his family, right? Why all the secrecy? I checked with ROB and Peppy didn't even log a destination into his Arwing before leaving. We can't track him."

"Maybe…" Falco gazed up at the ceiling, seemingly deep in thought. He raised his hand, the half-eaten piece of toast shedding crumbs. "Maybe…he's been having an affair and his wife found out."

Fox rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's it. You cracked it."

"Hey, don't be so quick to ignore it. Things like this happen all the time. Alone out in space with three other guys…we make stops at stations and towns to stock up…do the math. I've gotten to know some girls around the galaxy, why not the old man?"

"Because he loves his wife." Fox stepped to the refrigerator before realizing he wasn't hungry. He forced himself to pour a glass of vegetable juice in case this day proved to be as exhausting as the previous. "Wait a minute, what do you mean you've gotten to know some girls? I thought you and Katt were back together."

Falco half-chuckled, half-grunted. "We have what you'd call an open relationship."

"Which means she dumped him again," Slippy said, deadpan. While his two teammates were talking, the toad had set up his small laptop and was tapping away on the keyboard."

"That's too bad," Fox said, gulping down half the glass of vegetable juice at once with a grimace. "You might want to hold on to the only woman in the galaxy who would willingly spend more than an hour with you. Without being paid, anyway."

"Wow, that's really damn funny. You know what's funnier? As far as I can tell, I'm the only one in this room who's had a relationship. Can you imagine the frog there with a woman?"

Slippy shot a glare at Falco. "For your information, I actually have a relationship. Her name's Lola. I'm talking to her right now."

"What? Where?"

The toad swung the laptop screen around long enough to give the others a glimpse at a messenger window with blue and green names followed by smatterings of text.

"Wait, what's your screen name?" Fox squinted at the screen but it was jerked away. "Did that say Bell-something?"

Slippy's face flushed a bit but he set his jaw and stuck to his guns. With his chin up, he responded strongly, "Bull-Frog112. She happens to like it, so there."

"One-twelve?"

"My official typing words-per-minute. She happens to like that too."

Falco laughed. "What's her screen name? Do you even know if she's female?"

"We've talked for real also. And I'm not telling you her screen name. She doesn't like high school drop outs anyway."

The comm unit by the galley door gently buzzed. Leaving the squabbling duo, Fox walked to the speaker unit and answered it, receiving ROB's voice.

"Admiral McGarret requests your presence in the LDC Vanguard briefing room, fore sector, quadrant three."

"Thanks." Fox flicked the unit off and turned to tell the crew, but was preempted by Falco.

"Lola-Pop! I saw her screen name, it's Lola-Pop!" He nearly fell off his chair laughing as Slippy leaned away from him, holding the laptop at arm's length and blushing like the red power light on the computer itself.

"Hey, pay attention." Fox suddenly felt guilty about all the humor with Peppy on his mind, but he didn't want the mood to become too grim. The team still had a job to do and didn't need distractions. He waited until Falco steadied himself before continuing. "McGarret wants to see me. Slippy, I want you off flight duty and in charge of Great Fox supervision until Peppy comes back. If there's any development in regards to him, let me know immediately." As he turned to leave, he couldn't help but add, "That's all, you can go back to licking Lola-Pop."

Falco's laughter followed him out.

-

-

Fox arrived at the designated briefing room nearly half an hour later, delayed a bit by higher security measures in the wake of the battle, not to mention trying to find his way around the monstrous ship. Though it was not the same briefing room, the setup was exactly like the one he had been in the day before. Admiral McGarret stood behind the podium on the front platform while Gage, Captain Rourke, and Bill Grey took three neighboring seats in the front row. Each man turned to look at Fox as he entered, Bill flashing a grin and subtle thumbs-up. Almost feeling McGarret's hard stare upon him, he hurried and took the seat beside Gage.

"I know I don't control mercenaries," McGarret said, accenting the latter word like a curse, "but I'd appreciate if you would show up in a timely manner when called upon."

"Sorry, sir," Fox said, settling into the chair. "We had a problem in the crew. One of our members left unexpectedly."

"The fleet doesn't go on hold for your domestic issues, McCloud. You follow my orders, you get your money. If you're not prepared for that, leave now and let me talk to my real soldiers."

Fox thought about rebutting again, but a side glance from Gage changed his mind. "I'm prepared, sir."

"Then all of you, eyes and ears up here. Intel has sent us some useful information for a change; namely, the names and known operation areas for some local pirate groups. Like mercenary groups, they tend to be almost tribal and very protective territories. Unlike most space-faring mercenaries, however, a number of pirate groups are pretty low tech. These are the groups I want to hit. A theory given to me by our engineers states that the strange message that invaded our systems during yesterday's battle could have used a method or signal so archaic that our current systems weren't even looking for it. After following the theory, our communications officers traced the signal waypoint to a location that coincides with one of the pirate groups on the Intel report. That's the best lead we have and we're following it. Captain Rourke, is Sigil team all present and battle-ready?"

The black jaguar seemed surprised that McGarret had called on Sigil instead of Dagger. "Yes, sir. Five-man squad."

"Your mission is to infiltrate this pirate base through whatever means you deem necessary. Find their communications array and retrieve as much data as possible. In addition, apprehend their leader, codename Wizard, for interrogation. Secondary objective is to destroy the array and take out any hostiles. I want half of Bulldog squadron with you for close air support and extraction. Is that clear, Commander Grey?"

"Yes, sir."

"You'll both receive more details as our recon units report back." McGarret hit a button on the podium and the screen behind him flickered to life, showing a satellite scan image of what appeared to be a small island with multiple heat sources glowing orange. "While we haven't yet received a scan of that target, this just came back to us from Macbeth. Captain Birse, this is yours. I realize that you were supposed to accompany the Vanguard on this voyage as a political show of security, much like Starfox, but recent developments have put you back on active status. Though your team is back on Corneria, I have full confidence in your ability to act as an independent operative. Am I wrong?"

Gage perked up. "No, sir."

"Good. This is an unnamed island in a remote area of Macbeth's southwest hemisphere. The island is only maybe fifteen miles in diameter and the inland is covered in tropical jungle. Might actually make a nice resort spot if not for the Jade Dragon pirates. The Jade Dragon are a small, inconsequential group of thugs who use spacecraft nearly two generations old to hijack transport freighters in low orbit. Their 'base,' if you can call it that, is right here." He highlighted the largest concentration of orange dots on the western shoreline. "Everything is wood and sheet metal, built from the trees and whatever scrap they hijack. At worst it's a shantytown and at best it looks like a group of seedy tiki-bars. Don't let the charming beach-front property fool you, though. These pirates are brutal. They kill the crews of whatever ship they hijack and kidnap any survivors for ransom."

"Were these pirates part of the group that attacked us, sir?" Gage asked.

"No. From what we can tell, they don't possess any ship powerful enough to even leave Macbeth low orbit. Their base itself is run on small portable generators. Also, this scan shows no large power source. This means that energy-based weapons would be implausible for them. Expect bullet-based resistance. Have you been trained in the operation of ballistic weaponry?"

"Yes, sir," Gage replied, though Fox detected a slight grimace.

"Good. Adapt your tactics if needed. Your mission is to rescue a mercenary being held hostage there. Apparently, she's been doing business on Macbeth and the Jade Dragon didn't like it. She was kidnapped two weeks ago and we suspect she's being held in the largest building on the coast. Be careful in there. These buildings are planks and tin roofs; don't blow them down around your ears, or the hostage's. Bring the merc back here for questioning on pirate activity. Her codename is Phoenix. Secondary objective is to do the Macbethian people a favor and take out the Jade Dragon leader Keymon Barbute. That should dampen any future attacks. Coordinate with Starfox for close air support and combat backup. Bulldog's second element will be available for extraction. Everyone clear?"

A string of "yes, sir" responses sounded.

"You're all professionals, I don't need to hold your hands through this. Read your briefings well and get your jobs done. We need this information brought back to us. McCloud, see me when you get back for payment details. Dismissed."

-

-

_Jade Dragon Island  
1701 hours local time_

-

"I can't do this."

The harsh tropical sun beat down on Fox as he ducked back behind a crude shack made of four pieces of sheet metal topped with another. Logos, technical etching, and paint still remained from whatever container or object they used to belong to. He had glanced around the corner to see the main pirate building atop a small hill near where the beach met the palm tree line. At least ten men loitered around the building, talking, laughing, gulping God-knows-what from dirty bottles…and each heavily armed with a ballistic rifle over a shoulder or two pistol holsters and bandoliers of bullets. That lone glance had convinced him that this was a bad idea. Gage leaned against the shack, nearly toppling it, and scoffed.

"Are you kidding?" the fellow fox asked. "You're a mercenary, haven't you dealt with seedy types before?"

"I never tried to waltz into their base uninvited, if that's what you mean. This is nuts. What if they know we're coming?"

"The Great Fox dropped us and the Blue Marine miles offshore. The beach was clear when we came on. No one saw us, no one detected us. These guys aren't low-key; if they detected us they'd be out there shouting 'waaagh' and charging us with their caveman weapons."

"You don't like bullets, do you? You made a face in the briefing."

Gage grimaced again and folded his arms over the long brown burlap coat that he had donned along with dirty pants and brown boots. Fox's own attempted disguise wasn't much prettier, with a ripped green shirt, brown vest, and old denim pants. "You ever been shot by a bullet?"

"No."

"Well it makes a laser feel like a tickle. Look, just focus. Blend in and we'll be fine. Follow my lead."

"Forget it, this is nuts. We might as well put on eye patches and go in there swilling rum and singing 'Yo ho ho.'"

Gage pursed his lips and stared hard at Fox. "You were assigned to combat support. There might be combat in there. So shut the hell up and support me. Look like you belong and we might not have to fire a shot. Trust me. I'll make you a deal; for every shot fired, I'll buy you a beer at our next station stop. That's how confident I am in this plan."

Fox sighed. If he was to take on any dangerous job, then he couldn't think of anyone better than Gage to be at his side. It was hard to not believe in a seasoned soldier with that glint in his eye. "Fine. Lead on, me hearty."

They walked down the row of shacks, alert yet swaggering. The main building stood before them. Though it dwarfed any other building around them and was built more solidly, it would have been scene as a scrap heap in any civilized area of Lylat. Still one story, it stood on a palm wood foundation with flat welded metal roof. A small humming generator lit a long string of small lights that had been wound around the front support beams. A cool breeze alleviated the afternoon heat as they climbed some rickety slats on the hill that passed for stairs. As they neared the top, Gage poked Fox and gestured towards the nearby beach. The latter fox had to keep from gaping; wooden landing platforms! Somehow, they held up the three small, rusty dropships. McGarret hadn't been kidding; Fox had read about those ships in history books at the Academy.

The pair received passing glances and gruff grunts from the dirty pirates of every race and planet origin. Fox counted nearly thirty outside and had to repress the nervous knot in his stomach. Gage nudged him again and brought his attention to the tree line that bordered the inland jungle. A dirt road led inside, wide enough for transport vehicles. Sure enough, some old-style flatbed transports on wheels were parked near it, loaded with crates and other loot. Near them were a few smaller, speedier trucks that looked like urban military transports. The tops had been ripped off, allowing mounted guns to be rigged to the back beds.

"Pretty protective of their island," Fox muttered.

Gage whispered back. "Road means destination. Vehicles mean transportation. There must be other outposts on the island, which means reinforcements. They could have heavier hardware elsewhere from wherever they jacked those military trucks. If anything happens, kill anyone speaking into a comm device."

Fox nodded, ever impressed by the military mind. He followed Gage into the main building, through a pair of swinging doors, and took in a short breath. He had expected partitions or rooms. Instead, practically the whole building, the size of a small warehouse, spread before him in the style of a feasting hall. Long wooden tables stood in no kind of order or alignment, filled with messes of food and belligerent pirates. On the left side stretched a long bar, at least sixty feet, with liquor bottles of every kind on hastily built shelves behind it. Pirates sat at stools and hopped over to get what they wanted when someone wasn't readily available. Fox swallowed hard and tried to take it all in at once. Just because the pirates had sat down to eat and gloat over the spoils of victory didn't mean that their guard was down. Their weapons remained strapped to them like part of their everyday attire.

"Huh," Gage grunted. "A few more than I expected."

"Let's get out of here. Now."

"Look."

Fox followed his gaze. A small group was formed in a rear corner of the dystopian restaurant. A distinct contrast against the thugs, there stood a sandy-brown fennec vixen wearing a gaudy purple flight suit, though it had been stained and marred by dirt and debris. Her hands were behind her around a wall support beam, presumably bound there, and she looked at the ground before her, a frown plastered on her muzzle. By the looks of her, she was no more than Fox or Gage's ages and she retained beauty even in her degraded state. The pirates around her laughed and grabbed at her.

"It's Phoenix," Gage whispered. "We're not leaving. Get by the bar and wait for me. Keep your eyes open."

"What if someone recognizes me?"

"They won't. These guys have been away from civilization for years. Just act natural. I've done deep recon tons of times."

"Fine, fine. Hurry up."

As Gage moved off to the other end of the bar, Fox went to the end closest to him. He took a seat next to a short but menacing white rodent with two deep scars down his face and wearing only crossed bandoliers and ripped trousers. The pirate looked over as the fox sat and eyed him up and down.

"Ain't seen you before," the rodent said with a heavy lisp. Fox had to swallow when he saw that the rodent was missing most of his teeth and half his tongue. "What'choo on for?"

Fox hesitated. He squinted and finally took on an angry face. "You questioning me? Who th'hell are you? You want me to show ya why I'm here?" He grabbed a bottle from the bar and held it tightly by the neck.

"Hey, mate." The rodent nearly fell of his stool. He took his own bottle and hurried away to one of the tables, shouting over his shoulder, "ya crazy bastard!"

Fox put the bottle back down and let out a long breath, his heart beating a mile a minute. He glanced around, getting to know the general layout of the building, yet being careful to avoid eye contact and to keep his head down. For the next few minutes that seemed to crawl by like hours, he did his best to blend in while Gage did whatever it is he does. Finally, from the crowd of no less than fifty pirates, Gage emerged. He sat down by his friend with all the sway and swagger of a pirate, but as soon as he sat his face changed to a grim look that Fox didn't like.

"We have to go. Now." Surprisingly, Gage was the one to say it this time.

"Fine with me. Wasn't looking forward to walking the plank."

"No, listen. Our cover's blown. Whoever's running things behind the scenes…whoever sent that crazy poem…they knew our move. A couple pirates over there are saying that the boss is coming to kill some intruders. Someone tipped him off. Just follow me, nice and easy."

Fox nodded and stood. However, just as he did, the hard scrape of metal on wood reverberated through the building. They looked to see two heavily armed pirates standing in front of the main door, which had been bolted with a heavy plank and multiple padlocks. A hush fell over the pirates. Bright light penetrated the gloom for a moment as the rear door opened and closed. No one dared speak. A tall lizard stood by the door, ammo belts ringed around his waist and bare green chest, a heavy rifle slung over one shoulder. What caught Fox's eye, however, was the lizard's face…or lack of one. Half his face appeared to have been almost melted off, the eye nothing more than a red mess. Like other pirates and their scars, we made no attempt to hide it and wore it like a badge of honor from a difficult battle. Though Gage uttered the name, Fox needed no more hints that the man was the pirate leader, Barbute.

"Men!" Barbute's deep bellow nearly shook the wooden walls. He moseyed forward, slow and intentional, his heavy boots beating the wooden floor like a drum. "This island belongs to the Jade Dragon! This island belongs to me! Some men disagree…and I say those men must be killed!"

A roar of agreement rose before quickly subsiding.

"Those men could very well be in this room. Right now, prove you loyalty to the Dragon. Look to your left and look to your right. If you don't recognize the man you see…shoot him."

Fox stopped breathing. His mind raced. He remembered the weight of his pistol, stowed away under his vest, but he waited, waited for Gage to make the first move. However, he made eye contact with the worst person possible. Sitting at the table before him was the white rodent. Their eyes locked and the rodent nearly hopped up, realization fueling him.

"Gage, you might owe me a few beers after this."

The captain realized what was happening and was quicker on the draw than his partner. He reached under his coat, pulled out a pistol and shouted, "Bar!" before putting a laser right between the rodent's eyes. As the pirates reacted with a rising fury, the two foxes leapt over the bar as bullets began to riddle the wood around them. Within a few moments, a continuous roll of deafening thunder boomed around them as bullets tore up their surroundings, splintering the wood and smashing the bottles on the shelves over them. As the alcohol and glass rained down on them, Fox covered his ears, taken aback by the noise.

"They're so damn loud!" Fox shouted over the noise of ballistic gunfire.

"Then shut up and quiet them!" Gage pulled his coat off, revealing a modular combat vest. Ammo pouches and the like had been removed and replaced with pistol holsters, allowing him to carry six pistols and not worry about reloading. He pulled another pistol for his left hand and popped up, firing off of the energy clips in shots fast enough to sound like a machine gun, though the noise of the laser-based weapons were lost against the louder firearms.

Fox grabbed his own pistol and knelt high enough to fire over the bar. He glimpsed the muzzle flashes and was nearly overwhelmed by the smell of cordite. The sounds, smell, and sights frightened him to the core. This was combat that he thought had been lost to history books. He took a deep, smoke-filled breath and steeled his nerves. Popping up again, his courage found, he fired into the crowd.

"Watch it!" Gage fired over his friend's shoulder, hitting a pirate that had tried to hop over the bar. More tried, each being greeted by fire from either the captain or Fox.

As Gage rummaged through his vest, four pistols already spent, Fox dropped his own empty pistol and spotted a rifle dropped by one of the ballsy pirates. With another deep breath, he picked it up. Knelt high on his knee, shouldered the rifle, and fired. The first three shots nearly kicked him back on his rear. It bucked harder than he ever expected.

"God almighty." Gage grabbed a gun from one of the fallen bar-hoppers near him and passed his last two pistols to Fox. "Here, stop embarrassing yourself."

Soon, the bar filled with smoke from the shots and the shouts of rage and frustration from the pirates. Fox used the pistols while Gage fired the rifle over the bar and reloaded, uttering some curse against bullets and ballistic guns every now and then. From the way the bullets disfigured the wood around him, Fox's fear raised again at the thought of his flesh in its place. He couldn't believe anyone ever fought a war this way. Lasers pierce, burn, and kill. Whether from design or just old technology, bullets seemed designed to cause as much pain as possible. He fought to control his fear and keep fighting. Above all, he missed his Arwing and envied Falco who was flying support.

"Cover me!" Gage put his rifle down long enough to take a small earpiece in his pocket and put it in his ear. "Bulldog Four, this is Dagger One requesting immediate air-to-ground support. Multiple hostiles on our location, danger close."

Fox remembered he had been given a covert comm unit as well. He fired a few suppression shots and stuck it in his ear in time to hear the response.

"_This is Bulldog Four extraction team. We are not in position to provide support. Forwarding comm to Starfox wing two."_

After a moment, Falco's voice crackled in their ears. _"This is Falco. What's going on down there?"_

Gage answered. "I need you to flatten the building on top of the hill. Lock onto our location."

"_Holy hell…my heat scans show a freakin' ton of guys in there. I can't tell them from you. Pop a strobe."_

"Roger." Gage took a small metal cylinder the size of a cigarette lighter out of a pouch and smacked it against his hand. A green light blinked on and off as he dropped it on the floor. "Give me yours."

Fox handed over his own strobe. Gage activated it as well, took a few deep breaths, and stood, provoking a hail of fire. Fox stood to cover him, taking shots at any who leveled their guns at them. With the form of a baseball pitcher, he hurled the strobe towards the rear of the building, the cylinder cutting through the smoke. It bounced against the far corner and came to rest at codename Phoenix's feet. Gage dropped back onto the floor, unharmed but cursing every word in the book against bullets.

"Strobes popped," Gage said.

After a moment, Falco responded._ "I have your positions locked. Keep your heads down, that area's about to get fucked up."_

Fox's eardrums had already been bruised from the gunfire; he felt the Arwing's bombardment before he heard it. Falco had pulled the trigger and didn't let up. Blue hyperlasers tore the building apart, cutting through the roof as if it wasn't even there and blowing the wooden walls and floor into splinters. Gage and Fox both ducked and covered as the building was demolished from the outside. After a minute, they became aware that the fire had stopped. Sunlight shone down on them through the clouds of smoke and wood dust. Fox looked over the bar at the mess of twisted metal and burnt wood that remained, burying the bodies of many pirates. The bar, the wall behind it, and Phoenix's corner were all that remained standing.

"Good work, Falco," Gage said. He jumped up with a start at the site of the far corner. The pole that Phoenix had been tied to remained, but the woman was gone. "Son of a…Falco, Bulldog, anyone...I need a fix. The target is gone."

"_I see her,"_ Falco said. _"A lizard is pulling her onto a truck. Should I try to take a shot?"_

"Negative, hold fire."

"_Come on, I can do it. Just let me—"_

"I said negative, damn it. Maintain visual and keep us updated."

Gage and Fox clambered over the debris and hopped onto solid dirt. A couple shots crackling the air around them reminded them that they weren't out of danger yet. They rushed to the spot where they saw the trucks earlier in time to see Barbute in the back of a flatbed, Phoenix kneeling next to him, her hands still bound. Spotting them, the lizard stood up straight. He grabbed Phoenix by the neck and hoisted her up roughly.

"Is this the prize you're after, Cornerians?!" he shouted, a primal lust for combat in his eager voice. He tossed her back to the deck. "Come and get her!"

Gage rushed forward, but the truck started up and drove away down the path cut into the jungle. Not missing a beat, the captain hurried to one of the smaller trucks and hopped onto the back, grabbing the mounted turret for support. "Fox, can you drive this thing?"

"It's a little old, but I'm a quick learner." Fox slid into the driver's seat, slammed the door, and looked over the setup before him. It was no Arwing, but he figured he could manage. With a roar, the engine started up. "Hold on!"

As Fox gunned the engine and followed Barbute into the jungle, Gage held onto the turret mainly to keep himself from being thrown off. The truck topped nearly sixty miles-per-hour weaving through the dirt road and missing trees by inches. Branches and leaves slapped at Gage as he looked up, spotting Falco's Arwing not too far ahead of them.

"Dagger One, this is Bulldog Four. Be advised; we've picked up radio chatter from Keymon Barbute. He's ordered reinforcements from all over the island to converge on his location at a few more landing pads near the end of that road. Also, heat signatures have been spotted along that road."

Gage looked around. "Along this road? What, you mean…"

He trailed off. Though he has suspected ambushes, the brown flatbed truck ahead of them confirmed it. Instead of trying to block their way, it slowed down and sidled up beside them before matching speed. Gage only caught a glimpse of three laughing pirates in the back beside him before the truck rammed against them. Fox swerved, the tires spun, but he maintained control. While the two drivers duked it out with the vehicles, the pirates tried for a more direct approach. They fired, forcing Gage to hit the deck.

After a few more bursts, a dull thud sounded by Gage's head. He looked over and his heart skipped a beat at the sight of a grenade. Luckily, the pirates had been a bit zealous to throw it and left a couple precious seconds left; Gage grabbed it and tossed it up where it exploded behind the truck. For some reason, perhaps because Barbute had gotten away or because his entire plan had gone to hell, a seething anger rose to his head. After some more bursts of gunfire, another lull came. He anticipated it.

Gage hopped to his feet and, with both trucks still pushing sixty miles-per-hour, took a running leap onto the back of the enemy flatbed. The pirates, stunned, gave him all the time he needed. He kicked in the back of the knee of the one nearest to him and, as he dropped to the ground, shoved his elbow into the windpipe of another. With both pirates groveling in pain, their comrade raised his gun to fire but had it kicked away, followed by another kick to the jaw that sent him reeling towards and eventually over the side of the truck. Gage didn't even bother finishing off the two incapacitated pirates. He found the box of grenades they had been playing with. Reaching in, he pulled four pins simultaneously and popped off the primers.

"Gage!" Fox's voice sounded in his ear. "What the hell are you doing?"

Gage took a step back, ran a couple steps, and leapt back towards his own truck. One foot landed short and he had to windmill his earms to keep from falling; a quick swerve from Fox dumped him back to safety. With a groan, he pulled himself up. "Just making use of some stolen military ordnance."

The back of the truck erupted in a massive fireball, taking the fuel tank with it. The truck flipped tail over end and crashed into the jungle in a twisted dance of metal and flame. Gage wiped his hands against each other and stood at the turret once more.

"_This is Falco. You're coming up on him. Hurry, you only have a few miles 'til the landing pads."_

Gage climbed up onto the cab and looked ahead. Sure enough, Barbute's flatbed sped before them. Fortunately for them, the turret wouldn't be able to swing around, yet Gage dare not use his own turret for fear of hitting Phoenix. The lizard didn't need the turret, however; as the two trucks came closer, he shouldered his rifle and fired. Bullets punched the metal and spiderwebbed the windshield, but Fox didn't let up. Within a few seconds, the truck's front bumper was practically touching the enemy truck's rear. Barbute's enraged laugh rose above the cacophony of engines, gunfire, and wind.

"Falco, this is Gage. I need you to distract this bastard."

"_On it."_

Gage waited, figuring that the pilot would fire a couple shots down the road or something. Instead, the high whine of an Arwing engine grew in power and rose to its fullest directly over his head. He looked up and could practically read the techno-babble near the Arwing's belly bomb hatch. It passed them and gunned its boosters over Barbute's head, speeding up and out of the jungle, its wings barely missing the trees on either side. The sound and surprise made the pirate leader fall back. That was all the time Gage needed.

With a preparatory breath, he hopped onto the cab roof, sprung onto the front hood, and leapt forward. He hit the flatbed rolling and rose to find himself staring down the barrel of the rifle, the half-melted face behind it. The moment stretched on; Barbute pulled the trigger, but it seemed to go in slow motion. Even the trees zipping by seemed to slow. The last thing Gage thought was that it couldn't be true; his career couldn't possibly end by a goddamn bullet fired by some no-name pirate.

Phoenix had other ideas.

The fennec kicked at the back of Barbute's left knee. She didn't have the strength to put him down in pain, but it made him falter from the surprise. Gage whipped his hand up, grabbed the rifle foregrip and pointed the barrel straight up. The two men pulled in a test of strength to wrest the gun away, their noses less than an inch from each other with the barrel between them. With his little finger, Gage pulled the mag ejection, sending the ammo magazine to bounce once off the flatbed then slide back and off the truck. That left one bullet still in the chamber.

Barbute laughed in his opponent's face. "One bullet it all I need to kill you, army puppet."

"I don't even need that."

Gage released the gun. Barbute stumbled backwards and hit the rear of the cab. The captain was right on top of him, however. In a planned move where the slightest mistake would cost him his life, he grabbed the pirate's throat with his left hand and slid his other thumb into the trigger guard…behind the trigger. The hot barrel of the gun pressed against the underside of Gage's muzzle. That last bullet would send his brains back to Fox's windshield, but his thumb was in the way. Barbute pulled and pulled trigger, but it was stopped – with a fair amount of pain – by Gage's thumb. The fox dug his fingers into Barbute's throat and gave of what little strength he had left. After a few seconds of gurgles, a sickening crunch permeated the noise. He released the scaly neck and let the dead pirate fall face-down onto the flatbed.

The driver slammed on the brakes, forcing Fox to hit the rear of the truck then swerve and jam on the brakes himself. The driver stumbled out and, with a string of fearful glances over his shoulder, disappeared into the jungle. Gage was too tired to pursue a minion. He slid down onto the flatbed beside Phoenix and, breathing hard, worked to undo codename Phoenix's bonds.

"Thank you," she said, fear still etched on her face. "Who are you?"

"Cornerian Army Special Forces. Thank you too. For the help."

"Oh…well…my pleasure."

Fox made his way over to them and hopped atop the flatbed. He glanced at the pirate leader's body and nudged it with his boot. "You and Barbute have a nice chat?"

"If you're fishing for a one-liner, forget it. I used, 'He took a break' years ago. Oh, here's one. He choked under the pressure."

"That's why I love contracts with you, your marvelous wit. Oh, and the fact that all I have to do is drive while your insane ass gets to jump to vehicles going sixty-five under heavy fire."

"That's why we soldiers get paid the big bucks." As Gage pulled the last knot free, Phoenix wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Whoa there…you're welcome."

She hurried over to Fox and gave him the same thanks, though she lingered on him a bit longer, squeezing him tight, almost as if afraid to let go. When she finally did, Fox noticed that fear still gripped her face. She looked as if she was still under fire and about to die.

"You alright?" Fox asked. With her right in front of him, the beauty he had noticed earlier became clearer.

It took her a moment to answer. When she did, her face loosened up a little. "Just a little shaken. Thank you…thank you so much."

It was Fox's turn to hesitate. He felt like a teenager again, unsure of what to say when the prettiest girl in school finally spoke to you. All he was able to say was, "It's what we do" with a little grin.

Gage rolled his eyes and brought his hand to his ear. "Bulldog Four, this is Dagger One. Target has been secured. Please notify of alternate LZ."

"_Roger, Dagger One. There's a small clearing two klicks to your east, make your way there. ETA six minutes."_

"Roger, Bulldog. Out." Gage looked up at Phoenix. "What's your name anyway?"

"Fara."

"Well, Fara, let's get you out of here." He hopped to the dirt and helped her down. At least she wasn't injured or too weakened; two klicks through the jungle wasn't too arduous but would not have been fun with an injured person to carry. "Stay close."

As they stepped off the road, Fox caught up to Gage. "By the way, I lost count somewhere around six thousand shots, but…you owe me a lot of beers."

"I owe you at least two for that driving. We'll see how far we get."

-

_-Chapter 4 coming soon!-_


	6. Smoke and Mirrors

[Author's note: I admit to being a bit disheartened by the sparse numbers this story has been receiving compared to my others, so I had it on the back burner while doing some other things. However, I thought honestly and realized that something like that shouldn't matter. I love this plot (which is going to start taking its turning point in this chapter) and would love for others to read it, no matter how many or how few. It's been awhile, so I encourage readers to scan the previous chapter/s just so things are fresh in mind. Thanks as always to all readers and commenters. Enjoy! -Foxmerc]

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CHAPTER 4  
Smoke and Mirrors  
_LDC Vanguard, bridge  
1132 hours_

_-  
_

"At ease, gentlemen."

As Fox and Gage relaxed, Admiral McGarret lowered himself into the bridge commander's chair with a bit less grace and ceremony than he usually showed. The aging wolf let out a deep breath, the sigh of a man who had put duty before sleep for too many hours. Nonetheless, his eyes remained alert and he spoke with a leader's strength that demanded reciprocity. He gestured for the two foxes to stand beside him as he gazed out over the bridge. The half-dozen semi-circle tiers of consoles and displays, all under the massive window nearly the size of the Great Fox itself, buzzed with activity.

"I received your after-action reports and I must say that I'm rather disappointed. You took out Barbute and rescued the hostage but the mission unfolded in chaos. I'd expect that kind of fight from lawless guns for hire but not you, Captain Birse. No offense intended, McCloud. Dagger is trained to strike with precision, purpose, and professionalism. I don't think there was a single building or vehicle left intact down there. It's a miracle either one of you lived to tell about it. Anything to say?"

Gage cleared his throat. "I admit to being more brazen than wise, sir. However, Barbute knew we were there somehow. I believe that whoever is behind these attacks is more organized and well-informed than we thought. We might even have a security breach."

"I had considered that and already have the MPs sniffing around. Until we're certain, I'll be keeping operations on a need to know basis with my field teams." McGarret removed his hat and rubbed his eyes before replacing it. "Listen to me, Captain Birse. I respect you and I respect what you do. I wasn't always an old man behind the scenes and I definitely wasn't college brass. I worked my way up from an enlisted man, just like you. You have enough of a military track record to show me that your instincts should be trusted. That mission went to hell and was nothing to brag about, plain and simple. But if you tell me that it was unavoidable, then that's good enough for me."

Gage remained silent for a moment. He glanced at Fox, who returned the look, and took a few uneasy breaths before speaking. "McCloud suggested rather forcefully that my plan was flawed. I ignored him and put him, the hostage, and myself into a very fragile situation."

McGarret nodded slowly. "I see. Captain Birse, I realize that being separated from your team and serving aboard a ship might be trying for you, but I need to know that I can count on you. You're the best ground soldier aboard the Vanguard and we might need you in the near future. I'm going to call this mission a learning experience but it's one hit against you. You're still on active status and only because you had the integrity to be honest but I warn you, do not betray my trust. I expect performance required from a Dagger member from here on out. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, because I didn't summon you both to the bridge just to give you a lecture. I hope you boys got more shut-eye than I did last night because I need you back out there." He rose and gestured for them to follow him. Instead of the normal jaunt to a briefing room, he led them to an isolated server room in the rear corner of the bridge. The rows of servers housed every communication transcript, source, and tracking data for every communication the Vanguard ever made and ever will make. With technology as it was, only about half the storage space of one of the pod-shaped machines was in use but the Vanguard appeared to have been built to last for a long time. After closing and locking the door, McGarret took a seat at the technician's console and positioned the holomonitor to face the three of them.

"We may not need to be this cautious in keeping missions between me and my operatives, but it saves me the trip to the briefing room." McGarret chuckled softly as he ran his fingers over the holomonitor, logging into his secure files. When he found the one he wanted, he ran the decryption process and enlarged a series of pictures that then opened. "I have something for both of you. First one is yours, Birse. It appears the pirates aren't relenting. While they're not attacking us, they continue to harangue us. This has the potential to turn into a media nightmare so I need this done right."

Both foxes' jaws dropped when the next picture appeared onscreen: a blue vixen in a skintight swimsuit bending over and blowing a kiss to the viewer. One eye winked suggestively. Gage composed himself and said, "Well thank you, sir, but I think I already have a poster lying around at home somewhere."

"I see you're already familiar with Kristine "Krystal" Sherwood," McGarret continued. "I hope I won't sound too old when I say that I'm unfamiliar with her work but I know she's a rather popular pop-culture icon these days. I believe I once heard her singing on a show when I was walking through the barracks a few months back…made me have second thoughts about defending Corneria. Doesn't take a second glance to guess that she's probably not her singing that draws in the crowds."

"No, sir." Fox tilted his head, his eyes never leaving the pair of breasts that took up half the monitor.

"Well unfortunately that's about to bite us in the ass. A couple months before the Vanguard took flight, the PR people at Command thought it would make a great publicity stunt if Miss Sherwood were to perform for the troops onboard the ship. That way the press coverage about the Vanguard's maiden voyage would reach a wider audience and of course, Miss Sherwood's agents were wild about the prospect of such a 'good will' event. Maybe they were a bit too wild about it."

"Krystal was going to perform here?" Gage asked. His eyes showed surprise and an almost childlike anticipation. "On the Vanguard?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise for the soldiers. The morale boost would have been great, especially now. However, Command and I agreed to cancel it after the pirate attack. Having her killed on our watch would be disastrous. Unfortunately, her agents refused to cancel. We told them we couldn't guarantee her safety but they shipped her off anyway with a couple rent-a-cop escorts. Doesn't surprise me in the least, money-grubbing bastards."

"What happened to her?" Fox asked.

The admiral touched another part of the holomonitor and the picture changed to an exuberantly painted planet-hopper shuttle. "This is Miss Sherwood's transport, a Heuverten S-Class. It's basically a mobile five-star hotel suite, costs as much as every Vanguard crew member's salary combined. It's too small to be capable of jumps, only about four or five decent-sized rooms, so it makes stops at space stations and planets. We think the pirates tracked her after her stop on Fortuna on her way here. Intel says they're the same pirates that attacked us. A few hours out, they disabled the shuttle, boarded it, killed the guards, and took Miss Sherwood captive. They're threatening to shoot her and go public with it unless the Vanguard leaves their territory. I want to send in a negotiator."

As the image on the monitor switched to a three-dimensional blueprint of the shuttle, Gage folded his arms and nodded. "Am I the negotiator, sir?"

"Yes, you are. You'll be dealing with at least four hostiles according to their communication."

"Do you want me to negotiate with my mouth or with my gun?"

"However you see fit. I'm trusting you again, captain, don't let me down. I considered sending in a real negotiator but something about this mission feels wrong."

Fox's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, sir?"

"So far, the pirates have acted like a military unit, never wasting time or resources or giving in to taunting or flashy distractions. Taking a civilian prisoner for the sake of a media ploy isn't what I've come to expect. That's why I'm sending you, Birse. Keep your eyes open for anything strange. You'll find a full brief in your personal files. This mission is classified."

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed, captain. I'd like to speak to McCloud alone."

Gage took a step back, saluted, and turned to leave. He and Fox exchanged whispers of "good luck" before the door slid shut behind the captain. McGarret begun typing and moving files on the holomonitor while the servers hummed with an almost relaxing tone. After a few minutes, he beckoned Fox closer and leaned back in his chair, a planetary display of Titania on the screen. A small blip pulsed in the middle of what appeared to be a remote stretch of desert much like the rest of Titania's surface.

"Does this location mean anything to you?" McGarret asked.

Fox looked again for good measure and shook his head. "Should it?"

"Your technician, Mister Toad, ran his daily scans and merged them with our database today, just as we do every day. We've been very attentive to planetary and anomaly scans ever since that strange message showed up on our monitors. The Vanguard's scans haven't picked up much…most anomalies turned out to be abandoned military outposts or derelict ships. However, this anomaly showed up on the Great Fox's scans but not our own. The signal is strong enough that we should have picked it up without so much as tweaking the scan strength but no matter how many times we pinpoint that location, we receive nothing. Similarly, the Great Fox picks it up every time."

"Could it be a technical glitch on my ship's part?"

"Possibly, though unlikely. Mister Toad checked your database for the first time the location was scanned and entered into storage. The date is disturbingly close to the first attack by Andross. He believes it was first scanned by your father when he traveled past Titania on…his final mission, before being betrayed and killed. We would like to question Mister Hare since he would have been there but as you said, he has gone missing. It wouldn't be such an important issue except…well, the location is also disturbingly close to one of the pirate jump points, according to our technicians. Whatever's there might not be closed for business."

Fox stared at the blip. It suddenly evoked a pit of anxiety in his stomach, each pulse throbbing in his temples. "I don't understand. If it was some kind of installation built by Andross' forces that's recently been commandeered by the pirates, why is it still showing up on our scans but not yours?"

McGarret hesitated. When he spoke again, his voice sounded more subdued. "If you want to speak to just one person in a crowd, you don't shout and draw attention. You whisper to him." He nodded towards the monitor. "I think someone is whispering to you. I don't believe in coincidences, McCloud. Your father discovered that point just before he died and Andross waged war. And now it shows up again, but just for you, deliberately masked from us. It could be a trap. Or the Great Fox could have just inadvertently given us the key to finding out who is behind these pirates. I want you and your team to check it out, recon the area, but above all be careful. The brief is in your files."

Fox nodded. He couldn't take his eyes off the screen. Somehow, the more he stared, the more distantly familiar it seemed, as if he had seen it in a dream. It took the admiral's voice once more to break him from his trance.

"Your father was a good man. I may not like mercenaries, but he was different. You are, too. I can read people pretty well. Ever since you defeated Andross, I thought it was a damn shame you didn't join the service. A damn shame."

Fox tore his gaze from the monitor and said in a near whisper, "Thank you, sir," before heading for the door.

"Mccloud!" McGarret stopped him as the door slid open. "You didn't ask about payment for this job."

Fox shook his head and stepped through the doorway.

* * *

-

_Fortuna, south-west hemisphere  
1618 hours, Vanguard time_

_-  
_

"Ten minutes, Captain Birse." Bill Grey shifted heat shields to maximum as the small transport ship descended into Fortuna. "The shuttle is currently in Fortuna airspace, lower atmosphere. At least we won't be sucked out into space if something goes wrong."

"Always nice to have an optimistic pilot." Gage pulled at the red necktie under his black three-piece suit and grumbled. He hated suits even more than he hated full combat armor in the middle of a heat wave. No matter how slack he made the tie it always felt like a noose. "Feel free to call me Gage when we're out on a mission, by the way. We're equivalent ranks."

"No problem. Call me Bill then. Any friend of Fox's is a friend of mine, even if he does take all my money in poker."

Gage chuckled from the passenger seat behind the cockpit. The transport was the best McGarret could arrange in such a short time. Though no match for the Heuverten's luxury, it had the look of a respectable limousine. Gage took a deep breath and tried not to let the pressure of the mission cloud his mind. "So how do you know Fox anyway?"

"Academy. We still kept in touch when he left and met again a couple times during the war. He's always like, 'I saved your ass on Katina,' and I always have to set him straight. Pft. You'd think he like won the war on his own or something. I always have to tell him, 'Dude, you just happened to have a good ship and be in the right places.' What about you?"

"Command stuck us on a few jobs together. We didn't exactly hit it off but things fell into place once we got used to each other."

"What'd you do doing the war? I bet you were all like out there kicking ass and blowing shit up without anyone knowing."

Gage grinned. "No, not really. I was…what, nineteen I guess. Little older than you and Fox but a laughable soldier. My first battle was in defense of a rural village on Macbeth. I didn't fire a shot, just cowered as bombs and aerial bombardments rained down on us. Lots of friends died. The town fell and the survivors became POWs. I spent a good part of the war in a military prison on Macbeth. Not a fun time."

"Huh." Bill said nothing more for a few moments. "I thought the Venomians started exterminating prisoners during the end of the war. How'd you survive?"

"I don't really want to talk about it."

"Aw, come on. I love a good war story."

Gage pulled at his tie again. "Tell you what. You get me and Krystal out of here alive and I'll tell you."

"Deal. That's a double incentive…I'd fly through Hell and back to have Krystal in the back seat of my ride."

After another few minutes of flying with the frozen wastes of Fortuna blurring past them, Bill began hailing Krystal's shuttle. A few attempts went unanswered before a gruff, demanding voice ordered them to dock. The shuttle appeared in the window beside Gage as the transport slowed and sidled up beside it. A docking sleeve extended from the shuttle's door to the transport and whatever pirate was in control began pressure equalization. Gage stood, took a breath, and stepped to the door.

"No weapon?" Bill asked.

"They'll check me anyway. I'll improvise once I get a feel for the situation."

"Earpiece up and running?"

Gage shifted his jaw and felt the light yet unmistakable presence of the miniscule comm unit in his ear. "Check."

"Good luck then. I'll be waiting and ready for anything. I've got a few fighters on standby."

Gage nodded as the light above the door turned from red to green, signaling equalization. With a last tug at his tie, he stepped through the cold connector sleeve to the shuttle's port door and knocked. He raised his hand to knock again but the door slid open and a rough hand grabbed his lapel and pulled him inside. He acted timid yet not blubbery, keeping his hands up and his eyes wide. A tall brown lizard in faded street clothes and second-hand military gear, the one who had manhandled him, pushed him face-first against the red velvet wall and frisked him.

"I…I assure you, I have no gun. I don't even know how to work one."

"Shut up," the lizard growled. "Turn around."

Gage slowly turned, his hands still up. His eyes quickly darted around, surveying the ship. The antechamber he was in led to a larger living room in front of him, all lavishly decorated with wooden furniture, a chandelier, couches, carpets, and even a fireplace with a holographic fire. Two doors to either side led to a bathroom and a bedroom, if he remembered the blueprints right. Gage visualized the route to the cockpit…through the living room, turn right, through the galley. Finally, his eyes settled on the pistol pointed at his voice. He forced a timorous smile.

"Please," he said. "I'm here to listen and help. Why don't we, uh…why don't we go in there and sit down and we can talk."

The lizard narrowed his eyes but finally stepped back and gestured with the gun for Gage to move. The fox stepped into the living room and gave it another once over. Two other similarly equipped pirates, a fellow fox and a lanky hare with his left eye missing, stood near the door on the right leading to the galley. Gage felt a bit of relief upon seeing Krystal alive, sitting unrestrained on a wooden chair near the hare. Gage realized it was the first time he had ever seen her in anything resembling respectable clothing. She wore sneakers, jeans, a denim jacket over a t-shirt, and a very scared look on her blue face. Even in normal clothes, her beauty was unmistakable. He also noticed that a cloth napkin had been tied around her muzzle, clamping it shut.

"She wouldn't stop yammering on," the lizard said, apparently noticing Gage's look. "Fucking rich bitches. That'll keep her quiet…at least until we shut her up permanently."

"Well, let's not be so hasty," Gage said with a diplomatic smile. "I don't think any of us really want that…except her showbiz competitors." His laugh was greeted by stony stares and he let it fizzle out. "Anyway, why don't we all just take a seat here and tell me what you gentlemen want."

Gage sat on a couch facing the pirates and the lizard sat opposite him with an intricately carved coffee table between them. The table held an assortment of food carelessly strewn about. Apparently, the pirates had helped themselves to the refrigerator. Gage's eyes settled on a silver cheese platter in the middle of the table. He looked to each of the pirates in turn as he began speaking to mask his surveying for other potential weapons.

""I understand that the LDC Vanguard is an imposing presence," he began, his eyes again meeting with the frightened Krystal's. "But surely you know that no free government would negotiate with…gentlemen who kidnap and threaten. I know you know that. I can see that you're professionals trying to conduct business. I want to help you, I want to be on your side, but I need to show the military that you're businessmen. If you let the lady go to my transport and leave, it will help your case."

The lizard grinned humorlessly. "Please, Mister…"

"Carter. Dale Carter."

"Mister Carter. Don't patronize me or assume that you know anything about our cause. We are merely part of a larger army and our army has claimed the rights to Venom. Surely, our initial attack upon your behemoth of oppression and evil told you as much. Your 'Vanguard' has encroached upon our space and we," he gestured to the other two pirates, "have taken it upon ourselves to send it back."

"Your leaders didn't order this attack?"

"We have taken it upon ourselves. If we kill this woman and bring disgrace to your military, it furthers our cause. If you concede to leave, it furthers our cause. Either way, we become heroes. The choice is yours."

"Have you considered that your actions do not reflect your leader's intentions? If not, you could be in danger. If you surrender now, I can offer you protection."

The three pirates laughed and the lizard shook his head. "Mister Carter, your mind games may work on convenience store robbers, but not us. I've told you not to patronize us."

"If you don't represent your leader, then what can I offer you?"

"We would have no qualms following through with any of our demands if you do not concede. As I said, the choice is yours."

Gage's jaw set and his eyes became sharp. The time for games was coming to a close. "Very well, then. Listen to me now. My government will never concede to terrorists' demands. So your only option left is to kill Kristine and I suppose kill me also since you won't get your way. The second you do that, fighters will blow this ship to Hell. Either way, you're not walking away from this. You either surrender your arms and come quietly or you all die. So the choice is actually yours." He again flashed the fake diplomatic smile. "Can I get a cup of tea?"

The lizard's demeanor had slowly degraded during Gage's counter-negotiation and it finally collapsed into a frustrated, twisted roar. He raised the pistol as he stood. Gage mirrored the movement with a rush of pre-combat adrenaline, but held the silver cheese platter instead. He smacked the lizard's hand away with the platter, deflecting the laser harmlessly to the reinforced wall, and brought it back with a solid strike to the face that knocked him to the floor, out cold, a metallic ring reverberating through the room. Not wasting a moment, Gage planted a wingtip shoe on the coffee table and leapt over the couch towards the other two startled pirates, sucking in a breath as the hare aimed his pistol. He raised the platter and winced back as a laser struck it where the middle of his forehead would have been, melting half of the thick silver. He let his senses and instinct take over, using the cheese plate as he would any other blunt weapon from his training. The hare went down after a knee to the stomach followed by a well-placed strike to the back of the head. For good measure, Gage stepped on the back of his neck and pivoted, snapping the bone and turning him towards the fox in one fluid movement. However, the fox pirate was just out of striking range and suddenly his mission seemed to take over: he swung his pistol around and aimed it towards Krystal. Gage's heart leapt to his throat but he didn't let it interrupt his flow. With a quick flick of his wrist he threw the platter like a disc and struck the pirate's neck. The pistol fell as the pirate grabbed for his crushed windpipe but his attempts for breath did not last long. Gage shoved him back against the wall, retrieved the pistol from the floor, and calmly put a laser between his eyes, evoking a shriek from Krystal.

"Stay put," Gage said, turning towards the galley door. He waited a full minute but the pilot did not come back. Figuring he must not have heard the shots over cockpit cacophony, Gage holstered the pistol in his belt.

_"Gage!"_ The captain's earpiece hummed to life with Bill's voice. _"I'm picking up a few contacts near here. Hurry up in there."_

Gage pulled the napkin off Krystal's muzzle and helped her off the chair. "Are you hurt, Miss Sherwood?"

Krystal blinked and gazed around her shuttle. "You killed three men with my cheese platter!"

"The cheese was moldy anyway. Are you alright?"

The blue vixen raised her hands to her cheeks and took deep breaths. "Omigod, I don't even know what happened. I was just like sitting here chatting with my sister on Corneria and my guards they like come in and tell me to go to me bedroom and then like this ship hits ours and these ugly guys come in and they, omigod, they shot my guards and then they grabbed me and I thought they were gonna kill me or worse and then they told me to shut up but I was just so scared and then we just sat here and then you came and omigodtherearepeopledeadinmyHeuverten!"

By the time her rambling reached near screaming, Gage regretted taking the gag off. He took her by the arms and stared her in the eyes. He could practically feel her heart racing in his hands. "Kristine, listen. We have to go. Follow me and keep quiet."

Krystal swallowed and slowly nodded. "Wait, what about my things."

"Forget them. We have to go."

_"Gage, now!"_

"But I need my things! My stylist said to always keep my—"

"Now!" Gage took her by the arm and half-dragged her towards the port door. Upon nearing it, he hesitated, hearing the low whine of other muffled engines. Suddenly, the connection sleeve burst apart before him, lasers ripping through it. Bill's transport yawed and dove away as pirate fighters blurred past, their thrusters momentarily deafening Gage. The Heuverten plunged towards the surface though, luckily for the passengers standing near the door, they were low enough to avoid being sucked out. The frigid Fortuna wind howled through the ship, blowing debris around in a blinding whirlwind.

_"Damn it all! Gage, I can't get to you! You're going down, the engine's smoking!"_

"I love a challenge," Gage grumbled. "Kristine, are there any parachutes onboard?"

The vixen's eyes watered and her lower jaw trembled but she was able to squeak out on answer barely loud enough to be heard over the wind. "They're all near the cockpit. No…no, wait, there's a backup in there."

She pointed to a stylistically-camouflaged wall closet behind what used to be a pedestal with a flower vase on it. Gage flung it open, took the light black parachute and strapped it on in record time.

"Only one?"

Krystal nodded.

Without another wasted moment, Gage pulled Krystal to his chest and placed her hands on the webbing straps. She got the message and grasped them tight. The captain wrapped her in his arms as firmly as he could and, with a deep breath, ran for the door and jumped.

"OH MY GOD—"

Krystal screamed in his ear with a tonal ferocity that made the pirate fighters' engines sound like lawnmowers. How her lungs sustained it for as long as she did, Gage would never know. He immediately deployed the chute. The nanofiber chute unfurled in hexagonal layers and slowed them immediately. Gage allowed himself a moment to be impressed that Heuverten supplied military grade safety equipment along with luxury. He looked around and followed the trail of smoke to where the shuttle still plummeted. The pirate fighters took no chances; she followed after it and fired until it exploded, killing only their own man. Gage narrowed his eyes. The pirates had arrived too quickly after the onboard fight to have been summoned. They were already on their way to destroy the ship. Gage had been more right than he thought; whoever was in charge of the pirates truly did not condone the kidnapping and ordered the deaths of them men who enacted it.

"Oh, shit." Gage swallowed hard as the lead fighter pulled into a U-turn and headed for him. Apparently, the pirates wanted to erase anyone who might have spoken with the wayward kidnappers. "Oh, shit."

"What is it?" Krystal asked. At least she had stopped screaming.

"Just hold onto me. I'm going to let go for a second. Hold on tight." Gage pulled the pistol from his belt and lined up the iron sights on the oncoming fighter. He knew it was an almost comical scene but if he was going to die, he was going to die fighting back. He fired off once, twice, the lasers missing or fizzling out in the distance. The fighter neared, almost in range with main cannons that would vaporize the parachuting couple. Gage rapidly fired off the rest of his clip. The last laser was dwarfed by a deafening series of blasts from behind him. Searing green lasers darted past him and struck the pirate, taking him down so close that Gage could feel the heat from the fireball. Three Bulldog fighters roared past him in combat formation and pursued the other pirates. With a laugh of relief, Gage let the pistol fall from his hands and held Krystal again.

"You stole my kill," he said into his comm. An equally relieved laugh greeted him. "The hostage is safe. Pick us up when we hit the snow. It's freezing out here."

_"A new transport is inbound. Bulldog will keep the skies clear. Grey out."_

Gage looked down and saw that Krystal had buried her head on his chest. "You ok?"

She looked up, anger in her eyes. "My ship is gone, my clothes are gone, my phone is gone, my laptop is gone, my designer luggage is gone, and I'm dangling a mile above a frozen wasteland." She trembled and her eyes welled with tears. "And you didn't even let me get my four thousand credit Bellemi coat!" She shoved her head against his chest once more and cried while Gage could only blink.

* * *

-

_Sauni Desert, Titania  
1537 hours, Vanguard time_

_-  
_

Fox activated landing thrusters and immediately lost visibility as a billowing cloud of sand and dust rose from beneath his Arwing. The ship touched down on relatively flat sand but Fox kept the stick tight until he was sure the ground would hold under the weight. As the engines whined to silence, the dust settled and the desolate, eerily beautiful Titanian landscape, shimmering under a cruel afternoon sun, spread out once again before him. He sighed, hesitating to open the canopy as sand whipped the glass under the control of forceful wind.

"I'm down," Fox said into the ship comm. "Any change from the anomaly?"

Slippy's voice replied. _"None. No life signs or thermal movement. The exact coordinates lie about half a mile to your direct east."_

"Alright, continuing on foot and switching to personal comm. Keep Falco patrolling in case of trouble."

_"You got it."_

The canopy rose and Fox was immediately greeted by a blast of hot, stinging air. Not wanting to spend another moment than necessary in the desert, he hopped out, closed the canopy and set off at a brisk pace to the east. Movement became sluggish through the sand, like wading through ankle-deep water and he kept his forearm up to shield his eyes from the wind. Every now and then, he'd hazard a look in the distance. After twenty or so minutes of slow marching, he saw a brown rock formation half-buried in the sand. He sped up his pace and approached the clump of sharp, jutting boulders.

"What's my location?!" he shouted above the wind.

_"You're right on top of it."_

"Stand by." Fox jogged around and climbed on the boulders, trying to find anything out of the ordinary. Finally, on the north side, he noticed a discoloration on one of the boulders. He approached it and discovered it to be a sand-blasted metal door built right into the rock. It appeared old and unused with a large pull-handle instead of an electronic operating system. Fox scratched and dug away sand to find the door's outline and noticed what looked like letters etched into the middle of the door. He rubbed his hand back and forth over them and, as the sand fell away to be carried off by the desert wind, a word became clear. "Slippy, I need you to check our database for a word: Papetoon."

_"Can you spell it?"_

"P-A-P-E-T-O-O-N."

_"Strange word. Uh…let me see here…no, nothing. Let me try different filters." _A few moments of silence_. "Huh, that's odd. The word brings up a bunch of old information files but they're all encrypted in a way I've never seen before. The files are old, too, before we even had the Great Fox. Your father's team must have created the files. You know…now that I study it, this is the same encryption pattern that hid the location of this place from the Vanguard and I'm guessing any ship but the Great Fox."_

"Can you crack it?"

_"I don't know. I've been working closely with the Vanguard technicians but we've made little headway. I'll keep at it, alright?"_ Another string of silence. _"Fox, you there?"_

"Yeah." Fox stared at the door, eyes lost. "I just don't like any of this. I have a bad feeling."

_"You want me to send Falco down?"_

"No. No, I'd rather see this alone." Fox grasped the hot metal handle with both hands and pulled as hard as he could. The door did not budge. He placed his left foot against the boulder, sucked a few breaths through his teeth and pulled again. He groaned, ignored the pain in his muscles, and kept pulling until he was soaked with sweat and the sound of metal grinding against sand could be heard. Once the door had been opened a couple inches, he shoved his hand around it and pulled, realizing only after the fact that if he lost strength his hand would be pulverized. The danger drove him harder and soon, with a yell of release, he pushed the door away on its hinges and let it slam against the rock.

Fox took a moment to lean against the boulder and catch his breath. The desert sun illuminated the first few steps of an earthen staircase that led down into darkness. He pulled a small but powerful flashlight from his jacket and aimed the beam as far as it would go before being unable to penetrate darkness.

_"Fox, I might have something."_

"Go ahead."

_"I managed to access one of the easier files in this cluster. Apparently, this place is an Arwing development lab run by a small crew of Andross' best engineers. Titania was liberated before any Arwings were put into use, fortunately. Could you imagine if Andross had access to Arwing technology?"_

"I don't want to imagine." Fox moved a couple steps inside to escape the wind. "Pigma must have sold him the plans, but too little too late."

_"This location must have been a target during the war for your father's team. Looks like Pigma betrayed them before they were able to destroy it. Think there are any finished Arwings down there?"_

"One way to find out. I'll take a look."

Fox descended the stairs, keeping the flashlight a few steps ahead. He continued until the air became cold and damp, a welcome change from the surface, with the open door a distant halo above him. When the stairs became flat metal grating, he raised the flashlight to the wall and found a power switch. Not expecting much, he flipped the creaky switch and was rewarded with a hum rising in a slow crescendo. Some overhead lights flashed on while others sparked and died but those that remained illuminated what could only be called a hi-tech cave. Hewn into the earth and rock, the cave was about fifteen feet at its highest point and no larger than an elementary school cafeteria. Computer consoles lined the walls, most either broken or coated with dust. The damp air had left no metal without rust and decay. Shelves, storage cabinets, and tables stood askew and bare, whatever intelligence and information they held long ferried away. Supporting Slippy's information, torn, faded banners displaying the diamond and serpents emblem of the Venomian army hung from the corners. Fox felt dirty and even angry being in the presence of what was once a base of his enemy.

A segment of the far wall caught Fox's attention. Not only was it devoid of consoles or shelves but it seemed to cast a lighter hue in the dim light. As Fox neared, he saw it was actually a rectangle of metal totally rusted over. He rapped it with his knuckle and it echoed hollowly in the cave. Fox acted on instinct and looked around for an activator of some sort. He located a wall switch next to the metal and flipped it. No such luck this time. He wedged his fingers under what he figured to be a window shutter and pulled up. It gave some resistance but after his struggle with the outside door, it seemed like nothing. With a rusty, squeaky whine that grated on Fox's nerves, the shutter folded into itself above what used to be a window, the glass long shattered and fallen.

The sight beyond made Fox's breath catch in his throat.

The switch beside the shutter at least succeeded in activating the lights for a hangar that rivaled one of the Vanguard's in size. Unlike the cave, it was made of smooth, heat and blast resistant metal and looked as respectable as any hangar would. A glance at the ceiling revealed it as the exit point where it would open up to lead to the surface. The hangar stretched far away and below, giving him a perfect view of dozens of destroyed fighter craft and construction equipment. The blackened husks were unmistakably former Arwings, an entire fleet of them. Someone had succeeded in destroying them, perhaps another mercenary squad or the Venomians themselves when they fled. The damage was contained, as if from planted explosive charges rather than gunfire or aerial bombardment.

"Slippy, you were right. This place was an Arwing research facility. There were enough Arwings here to cause the apocalypse. If Andross…my God, I don't even want to think about what would've happened. It looks like someone got to them first, probably the Venomians themselves."

_"Why did they destroy them instead of using them?"_

"Maybe they weren't combat ready yet. If not, they look damn close from what I can see. We won that war in the nick of time." Fox hesitated. "What I don't get is that all Venomian military codes were implemented into the Cornerian military's scanners after the war. Why wouldn't they pick this place up?"

_"Someone would have had to make it invisible to scans again, a new code…but one that still showed up in the Great Fox's scans. I don't get it. Does this make sense to you?"_

"No. And unless Falco's asleep on watch, this isn't an ambush." A chill ran up Fox's spine as he looked at the Arwing graveyard. He recalled what Admiral McGarret had said and whispered it aloud. "It was whispering to me."

_"What did you say?"_

"Nothing. Tell McGarret it's clear down here but he should send an investigation and salvage team. Some of these hard drives might still have data. Someone wanted us to find something but he wanted me to see it first. I'm coming back up."

_"Roger."_

Fox turned and walked briskly towards the stairs without a glance back. He had never been overly superstitious and certainly not easy to spook but as he climbed the stairs toward the light, he could swear he felt long-trapped ghosts following him.

* * *

Fox let out a long sigh and rubbed his eyes, tired and glad to be back amongst the clean metal, bright lights, and familiarity of the Great Fox. He dropped to the hangar floor and patted his Arwing in a fatherly way; the poor ship had taken an aesthetic beating on Titania with scuffs and sand burns marring some areas. The ship would need a full cleaning to get the sand out from every nook. But if a full debrief for McGarret could wait than that could wait as well.

Fox announced that he was back over the comm system for anyone aboard but didn't wait around for replies. He headed straight for his room, intent on a hot shower to purge the sand from his fur. The corridors were dark, indicating that the crew had put ROB in charge for the night and gone to bed while Fox flew back from Titania. With two days' worth of tough missions under his belt, he wasn't up for anything but relaxation anyway. As the door to his room slid open, he pulled his jacket off and tossed it forward into the darkness where he knew his bed to be.

"Lights."

The overhead light made Fox blink a few times but he soon noticed something moving out of the corner of his eye. He whipped his head to the right, but a fist connected with the side of his muzzle, sending shooting pains through his head. A hand grabbed his shoulder and shoved him forward onto the bed. His weary heart again sent racing, he flipped onto his back and came muzzle-to-barrel with a black pistol. He lay still for what seemed like hours while his eyes adjusted to the light above him. A soft, familiar voice broke the silence.

"I'm so sorry, Fox. I'm so sorry."

Behind the pistol, eyes red and face haggard, finger tightening over the trigger, was Peppy Hare.

-

_**-Chapter 5 coming soon!-**_


	7. A Soldier's Rise: 2

Author's Note: I realize I left the last chapter on a bit of a cliffhanger, so don't worry, an update will come soon. This is the second of the "A Soldier's Rise" series. Basically, these shorter between-chapter sections are interludes to the main story and serve to show the background of Gage, following him from new recruit to Dagger leader. I figured he finally deserved to have his story told and since the fic focuses on Fox, the interludes can serve Gage. Generally, these interludes take place in the time span between chapters and are not critical to the main story. If for some reason you really don't like them, you can skip them without fear of being out of the loop of the main story arc. But for those who have asked about Gage or wondered who the man truly is, here's his story.

-

**A Soldier's Rise**

Part 2

-

The door to Gage's quarters opened with a hydraulic sigh and revealed two silhouettes against the offensive corridor lighting. Gage stepped in, called for the room lights to activate, and allowed Fara to look around as the room flickered into view. She didn't seem impressed and could not be blamed for such feelings; Gage had done little to add to the basic navy loadout of a bed, a wall locker, a footlocker, and a sink with a mirror. Whereas most crew members' rooms at least contained some sense of personality, whether it be pictures of family or loved ones or even a cookie box sent from home to add the slightest color to the enclosure, the only visible objects of Gage's possession were his handgun and his travel bag. He gestures to the bed and sat next to Fara after the vixen had claimed her spot.

"I may not be the best company right now," the captain said. "It's been a rough few days. I'm used to fighting for long stretches but I hate space travel and being cooped up on this ship is getting to me. I'd usually have the rest of Dagger to keep me sane, but this Vanguard trip is a solo gig."

Fara gave a small grin. "That's okay. I won't make you work to keep my entertained. I just needed to go somewhere quiet for awhile. I'm used to being on my own and ever since you brought me here, it's been nothing but debriefs and questions and more questions. When the intel guys aren't questioning me, I can't get a moment's privacy. You'd think in a ship this big it wouldn't be a problem." She shuddered. "I hate crowded places. I guess that's why I wanted to play poker with you and Bill Grey and the others tonight. At least if I'm focusing on something it makes me feel more secluded."

"You're not a social type, huh?"

"It's not that, I just prefer being alone. Don't you?"

"Not really, except when a mission requires it. I suppose it seems that I like being alone. I guess we can't choose our natural environments."

"I suppose not, no." Fara let the thought trail off.

"Well, you're welcome to hide out here as long as you need. If you don't mind a couple more questions, I've been sort of curious about you also."

"Shoot." The vixen leaned back on the mattress and rested on her elbows.

"What do you know that warranted a rescue operation?"

"I know a bit about pirate activity around here but not much else. Not sure if any of it helped your admiral but I suppose that's on a need to know basis."

"Nice to know a major shootout and high-speed chases wasn't a total waste. You have a last name?"

"Sure. Doesn't everyone?"

Gage took his cue that she didn't want to tell him. "Well, if you don't tell me I'll have to use the codename they gave you: Phoenix."

"Fara Phoenix," the vixen echoed. "Rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?"

Gage chuckled then stood and slipped his BDU jacket off. It smelled of residual smoke from the cigars Bulldog squad had smuggled into the officers' lounge and was beginning to give him a headache. "I warn you, if you're attempting playful banter I've been out of the dating game for a long time."

"Actually, I was more interested in the conversation at the poker table. Or should I say, the conversation you nimbly avoided. Bill said you owed him a war story and you seemed pretty hesitant. Isn't that what you big, meaty military types do? Compare scars and one-up each others' stories?"

"I like to think of myself as toned rather than meaty, but thanks anyway." Gage opened his wall locker to hang up his jacket and found a pair of wide eyes on a bright blue face staring back at him. Two seconds passed, enough time for his nerves to become steeled and combat ready, then back to normal. "You know, that damn clown paint of yours is the only reason your head's not lopsided on your snapped neck right now. Had to make sure I wasn't seeing things."

Krystal frowned and slunk out of the wall locker. She stood upright and brushed herself off, wearing the same outfit as the one she had been rescued in and none too happy for it – she had pined for hours over the fact that her luggage had joined the mission's casualty list. "It is _not_ clown paint, it's a trademark. Once you're as famous as me you can start giving career advice." She wrinkled her nose and glanced back at the locker. "And once you start getting more clothes, too. Don't you have any normal clothes? Ones that, like, aren't designed to make you blend into stuff."

"Sorry, I left my bellbottoms in my other combat pack." Gage hung up the jacket and closed the locker. "I wore a suit earlier, does that count?"

Krystal scoffed and rolled her eyes. "It ended up torn and covered in snow, blood and cheese. _My_ cheese."

Fara cocked an eyebrow. "How…how did you…"

"It's a long story," Gage interrupted, turning his attention back to the blue intruder. "What the hell are you doing hiding in my locker?"

Krystal frowned and folded her arms, her face falling into a pleading look that seemed to be directly ripped from one of her posters. "Sorry, I snuck in here and panicked when I heard you at the door. Please, please, please, can I stay here a bit? I love doing gigs for you soldiers and all and whatever, but now that I'm, like, a refugee or something and my agent's not here, I'm all alone. Well, not really alone. Every soldier on this jumbo can is fawning all over me. I'm used to things like that but, like, I can feel so many eyes undressing me that I actually feel naked out there."

"Naked around a bunch of men. Isn't that just another Saturday for you?"

Krystal's jaw set and she narrowed her eyes. "Listen, jarhead, just because people fantasize about me doesn't mean I put out. You all can judge me all you want from my albums and posters and whatever but it's all part of the show. My pants are not open for business. I just want a little peace and quiet."

Gage sighed and gestured to where Fara sat on the bed. "So when women want to get away from excitement and want nothing to do with men, they come to my room. That's nice." As the two women sat together, he gave introductions. "Kristine Sherwood, this is Fara. Fara, Kristine."

"Wow," Fara said as the two shook hands, "so you're Krystal. I'm no fan, don't worry."

Krystal didn't know whether to take the comment as an insult or a reassurance so she settled for a half-grin and silence.

"But that doesn't get you out of the woods," the vixen continued. "Since we're here for a bit, let's hear this war story that you denied Bill."

"Ohhh, a war story!" Krystal bounced around on the mattress and settled on her knees like a girl at a slumber party eager to hear about another girl's private crush. "Does it have like guns and explosions and stuff in it?"

Fara hid a grin. "Not the kind of guns you're used to seeing. These aren't made of plastic and you're not supposed to lick the barrel for a camera."

Krystal's jaw stiffened again, her bouncing ceased, and she gave a sideways squint at the other woman.

"Alright, alright." Gage sat on the bed with his back propped against the metal-frame headboard. "Since war stories are the only excitement women want from me in my bedroom, I guess I can at least deliver that. What story did Bill want?"

"He said you'd talk about how you went from puny recruit to…well, this. He mentioned that you were a POW on Macbeth."

He was afraid that she'd remember. No backing out of it now. He hadn't talked about it in years, even avoided thinking about it, and the prospect of vocalizing it again made his pulse speed up a bit. With a light sigh, he began. "Well, I performed like crap in basic training and was considered the runt of my company, maybe even the whole battalion. But I stuck with it. My unit was sent to garrison Arnheim, a small town that had the misfortune of being near a very well-positioned landing bay and crossroads. We linked up with Macbethian military and waited. Andross hadn't declared war officially yet, but we all knew it was coming. We just didn't think it would come so soon."

Gage blinked and would not blink again for nearly ten minutes as his eyes lost focus. "They hit us at night. Aerial bombardment, orbital artillery, tanks, infantry, fighters…the full might of Andross' military. As fate would have it, our landing pad was Venom's first stop on Macbeth and they held nothing back from their demonstration of power. I saw the news clips years later the press used to cover the battle. They called it a massacre. Those tapes weren't even half as bad as it truly happened. The town was flattened in a matter of minutes. My battalion tried to shoot at something, anything, but the Venomians were toying with us. We dropped like twigs in an avalanche. For my part, I…I hid the whole time in a burned out building. Didn't even fire a shot the whole battle. I was in there with a friend, Granger, maybe my only friend in the entire company. He wanted to fight, I begged him to stay. Finally, he stood up once too often and got his head blown half-off. I didn't even realize it immediately because I was looking the other way down the street."

Gage realized that he had been taking short breaths and began to feel a bit light-headed. He lowered his hand to the mattress to steady himself but it rested on the pillow instead. His hand wasn't prepared for the soft, pliable feeling. He wasn't prepared…

* * *

…Gage wasn't prepared for the soft, pliable feeling when he reached for his friend's shoulder. He whispered Granger's name, a pointless effort lost against the noise around them. When he finally turned, he realized that his hand had indeed found Granger's shoulder, but the unexpectedly soft feeling turned out to be the remains of his head. Gage couldn't move; he stared, unblinking, his gore covered fingers still grasping the half-skull. His chin shook, then his arm, then his hands. Finally, he was able to release the body and let it fall to the ground, but his right hand remained drenched in blood and flecks of bone.

Shock set in and even the explosions and gunfire in the darkness did not snap him out of it. Gage slid into a sitting position, his knees tight against his chest. He blinked at last because of a sudden cloud of dust kicked up from a nearby explosion but even in the darkness his eyelids provided, he still saw the remains of his friend's face.

"Oh, my God," he whispered, unable to hear his own voice. It didn't matter. "Oh, my God…Oh, my God…" Suddenly, clear as the corpse beside him, he saw in his mind the same outcome for himself, his own face half blown away and the brain that contained every experience, memory, and thought he'd ever had smeared across a lonely, war-torn battlefield. His eyes blurred and tears fell freely down his dirty cheeks. He sobbed silently, hugged his knees, and buried his head. "Please, God…please, God…"

_That was the last time I ever truly prayed. They say every soldier eventually becomes a praying man. But it's not because we suddenly turn into believers. We just grasp at anything, no matter how intangible, to get us the hell out of there. In a way, though, my prayer was answered. The next time I looked up, a Venomian soldier with burning red tinted goggles stood over me. His face was hidden behind a ballistic mask but I felt his mocking smirk. I was terrified…huh…it seems so long ago that I was scared of a simple foot soldier. He pulled me upright and threw me into the street. Arnheim was quiet now, completely taken over. A small group of Cornerian and Macbethian soldiers was huddled in the middle of the street, prisoners. I later learned that we were all that remained of our entire garrison force. By all statistical probability, I should have died there._

_We were taken as prisoners of war to a compound in a remote forest outside of Arnheim. It was hastily built, mostly from rough wood and rusty metal. The Venomians didn't much care for our living conditions or health. That's where I spent the next sixteen months, in a cell made of wooden walls, a sod floor, and iron bars, like something from last century. Of course, it felt like a five star hotel room after a day of "questioning." They interrogated and tortured us in turn while asking questions none of us had answered to, and they knew it. They just wanted to make us suffer. They took our boots and whatever clothes we arrived in became our only outfit for our entire stay. My uniform quickly became a mess of rags which didn't help much on cold nights. Disease, torture, and natural wearing eventually killed many prisoners. After only a few weeks, I wanted to die. I would sit on the dirt in the cold and urge the life to leave me. I had never in my life imagined a nightmare like this._

_Instead, life had other plans. There was a knot in the rear wall of my cell which also served as the rear wall of another cell. After a few months, a new bunch of prisoners arrived and among them was a badly injured Macbethian colonel. He was old, in his late sixties at least, but still had some fight left. I never knew his name, don't even know what he looked like. But we talked with each other through this knot in the wood. He spoke to me like I was a real soldier, a colleague, and I couldn't help but tell him that all I did was sit and cry while my first battle unfolded around me. I felt ashamed just talking to a man like that, an old career soldier and officer who fought till his last. But he didn't care. He believed in fate and he said that if he was going to die in that god-forsaken prison then the last person he spoke to was put there for a reason._

_The days dragged on. The tortures and humiliations came and went and I wondered if it would ever end. At least now, I had something to look forward to every day, no matter how slight it seemed. The colonel told me stories of his battles and his life. He spoke to me as if trying to give me his most treasured experiences and memories to keep after he died. Not only that; he also wanted to pass on his combat experience. He put me on an exercise regime, if you can believe it. Imprisonment made me weak but he built me up stronger than I ever was. His voice commanded respect. I still remember the smell of that sod as I did push-up after push-up. He taught me hand-to-hand techniques and how to hold a gun and fire, how to control recoil, how to predict my enemy, all without ever even seeing me. He made me describe how I felt performing these actions and that's how he knew whether I did them right. I never imagined that I could do any of this for real, but it kept me busy and it kept my mind from dwelling on captivity._

_The colonel knew that no rescue was coming, that the prison was too far into enemy territory, and he told me so. Finally, after nearly a year and a half of this hell, the colonel prepared me for the day when I would either be dead or free…_

"…dead or free, Private Birse. This evening will find you in one of those outcomes. I've taught you all I know. Now comes the real gamble. I cannot teach courage, strength, willpower…all the combat knowledge in the world will not help one too afraid to stand and fight. Now we see whether you're a soldier or a corpse. The rest is up to you."

Gage sat with his back against the splintery wooden wall, his ear beside the knot. He stared at the barred door of his cell, controlling his breathing as best he could. The guardsman would come for him soon; it was his day to be interrogated. It was also one of three days per month when a cargo transport was scheduled to dock. This opportunity was too good to pass up and, of course the colonel saw it as fate.

"Say it again," the gruff voice commanded from beyond the knot.

"Third finger under the clasp. Pull and thrust. Wait for the heart to stop. Guard house forty yards from the door. Free the prisoners. Landing pad two hundred yards north. Stop for nothing."

"What do you do when you leave this cell?"

"Keep the rifle to my cheek and my eye down the sights. Let instinct drive me."

"Say it again.

"Let instinct drive me."

"Again!"

"Let instinct drive me."

"Good. If we never see each other again, remember what you learned here today."

Gage did not have to wait long. Within the hour, the usual tall, deep brown jackal approached the door, his footsteps thudding against the wood like a metronome counting down Gage's last seconds. He rested his rifle against the outside wall, opened the door, and stepped inside.

"Up," the soldier commanded. "You know the routine."

Gage slowly stood, trying to exude weakness; difficult, given the rushing adrenaline in his veins that would cause him to shake, if not controlled. The jackal approached him and reached out to grab him.

_Time seemed to slow for a moment. It was as if I caught a glimpse of a crossroads in my life and was consciously given the choice. I could either act, or I could not, and whichever way I chose would dictate the rest of my life. I threw the dice, I took the risk…I acted._

Gage grabbed the jackal behind the neck and pulled him close, locking them in a hateful embrace. With his other hand, he reached to the small of the soldier's back, to the knife he kept there. _Third finger under the clasp. _The clasp released and the knife slid free. With only a moment's hesitation, he thrust the knife into the jackal's back, to the heart. He swallowed nausea as warm wetness covered his hand and the jackal gargled and coughed. _Wait for the heart to stop, wait for the heart to stop. _Gage didn't even know if he struck the heart, as the beating would have stopped immediately if he had. Finally, the heartbeat against Gage's own chest was still and the soldier hung limp. He let the body fall to the ground, the knife with it.

"I killed someone," Gage said, staring at his red hand. It wasn't a statement of fear, joy, or guilt…simply a statement. He felt a bit dizzy from the rush but otherwise unharmed.

"The first one is always the hardest," the colonel said. "Now get going, private."

"Yes, sir." _Guard house. _Gage stuck the soldier's pistol in his waistband and took the rifle from the corridor. He slid spare mags into his pockets and flipped the safety off. His heart had slowed to a rhythmic, hard thumping that reverberated in his ears but his hands had ceased their shaking. With a few calming breaths, he poked his head into the cell block corridor and stepped out.

_Rifle to cheek, eye down the sights._

Gage kept the rifle shouldered and pointed ahead, the iron sights constantly aligned. The cell block door led out into the late afternoon Macbethian dusk light…dark enough to hide him a bit, but light enough to warrant caution. He could see the guard house forty yards away, near the perimeter wall. It was a one-room shack with windows on all sides and a console in the middle that controlled the compound's security, including backup door locks. Gage peered around the compound. Lights were on in the mess building and guard barracks and only a few soldiers could be seen outside. Sure enough, the supply transport sat on the landing pad in the distance.

_Let instinct take over._

Gage waited until the two soldiers in the guardhouse faced away from him before making a break for it. He dove into a slide and came to rest ducking under the windows. As he feared, the door to the guard house was locked down. He would have to use the direct approach. He checked the ammo counter and safety on his rifle one more time and tried to put his sub-par performance in shooting out of his mind. After another few calming breaths, he jumped up, raised the rifle, and let loose into the guard house. Lasers lit up the dusk gloom and glass shattered before him. When the smoke settled, the two soldiers lay dead and the window was clear. As expected, the noise had not gone unnoticed.

_Don't panic. Let instinct take over._

Gage vaulted into the guardhouse and hurriedly searched the console until he found the emergency override panel. He flipped the switch marked "Cell Block" and prayed that he would have backup soon. To buy time, he flattened against the wall under the windows and popped up with a burst aimed towards the alerted soldiers every few seconds. He swallowed again as he realized that he killed another soldier but the colonel was right: the feeling passed and he got back to fighting.

Soon, Gage noticed figured in the cell block doorway. The Venomians were scattered and confused; he took the opportunity to grab the two recently acquired rifles from the dead soldiers and run back to the cells. A couple dozen prisoners awaited him, scared and just as confused as their enemies. Gage thrust the rifles into the hands of the two men nearest him and didn't give them time to start asking questions. The colonel warned at length about this: move fast and get them fighting again before they give in to the fear they've lived with for so long.

"You two," Gage said with forced confidence. "I'll cover you as you get to the guardhouse. You lay down fire from there to cover the others. All of you, get whatever weapons you can from the guardhouse. Then we all move as a group to the landing pad. Can anyone fly?"

A few hands rose.

"Can you fly a Venomian transporter?"

The hands remained up.

"Good. Ok, ready you two?"

They simply blinked. Gage shoved them out the door and fired from the doorway towards the other buildings. The gunfire seemed to rattle them back to combat mentality. They found their legs and hurried to the guardhouse. Lasers kicked up dirt around them and Gage responded with gunfire to where he saw muzzle flashes. The two prisoners began firing from their end.

"The rest of you, move in threes. Go!"

As the prisoners started the dangerous race, Gage scanned each face for someone who would fit the colonel's voice. He couldn't be certain and contemplated going to the other side of the cell block to make sure the old officer had joined them. However, he stuck to the plan. The colonel would have wanted that in any case; he wanted the soldiers rescued and he entrusted that to Gage.

A shriek pulled his eyes back to the battle. A female feline prisoner lay in the middle of the kill zone, clutching her leg and writhing. She was the last across besides Gage and more gunfire kept the guardhouse pinned down. With a glance at the muzzle flashes in the distance, Gage sprinted into the open. Lasers cut the air around him, filling the night with heat and the smell of energy discharge. The fox kept his mind focused and let his instinct guide him, as the colonel had commanded. He pulled the feline to her feet, evoking muffled screams of pain, and heaved her over his shoulder. With the soldiers at the guardhouse covering him as best they could, he half-jogged the rest of the way and laid the feline down amongst the blood and broken glass.

"Any medics?"

One had already squeezed through the others to tend to the feline. Gage could see from where he had come from that another prisoner lay near the rear of the guardhouse, his chest a bloody mess. It was obvious that he was dead.

_My combat high was broken for a moment. I realized that that man was dead because of me. I toyed with dangerous notions in my mind: maybe he would have lived if we just waited for rescue, maybe we all would have gotten out just fine. If I kept thinking like that, I would have broken down right there. Instead, I let the colonel's voice in my head repeating his orders again. What's done is done. No regrets, no looking back. Just get the job done._

"Hey!"

Gage snapped from his short trance and faced an emaciated avian holding a pistol.

"We got 'em pinned back for the moment but if they called for reinforcements, we don't want to be here when they join the fray."

Gage nodded. "We don't have time to move in small groups. You stay here with me, we'll cover the rest as they work around the mess hall to the landing pad. Soldiers with weapons! Take the front and get to the transport. Stop for nothing!"

Gage and the avian took cover near the windows and kept their rifles trained on the growing darkness. It took nearly constant automatic fire to keep the remaining enemy suppressed, but most of their guard force was apparently either waning or holed up, waiting for reinforcements. Gage kept a close eye on the group of prisoners to make sure no one else dropped. When they all disappeared behind the mess hall, the avian clapped him on the shoulder and gestured for them to move.

"Wait a minute." Gage grabbed his arm. "You hear that?"

The sound of a machine-like whine, growing ever higher. The avian caught on quicker than his vulpine partner and covered his head as a blast of green energy exploded beside the guardhouse, throwing Gage back against the broken console. Aching and dizzy, he stood to find the avian pulling him forward, panicked.

"Tank!" the soldier shouted into Gage's pained ears. "Up on the ridge, beyond the gate! It's a fucking tank!"

A pit in Gage's stomach sucked hope away. So close, and this is how it ends. But even as he thought this, the colonel's voice in his head kept him going. Stop for nothing. "Run! Just run!"

"But it's a fucking--!"

"Run, damn it!"

Gage's rifle had been knocked from his hands but the time for fighting had passed anyway. With the avian in tow, he burst from the guardhouse and ran with all the strength he had left, which by this time was fueled by pure will. The whine of building energy struck fear into Gage's heart. He felt the explosion before he heard it, tearing a charred hole in the mess hall they had just run past. All that lay before them now was one last sprint of fifty yards to the landing bad and the now powered up transport ship. Gage allowed himself to hope again, to feel elation at being so close to freedom.

He never heard the tank's last shot warming up.

The avian, half a dozen steps ahead of him, looked back and reflected the excitement of the successful escape. However, to Gage's surprise, his face quickly distorted into fear as he looked beyond the fox towards the ridge where the tank had fired from…

_That horrified look was the last thing I saw. I later learned that the blast had come close enough to give me a few bad burns and knock me cold, but that's it. I awoke in the transport, honestly surprised to be waking up at all. They told me we had cleared orbit and were home free. They looked great…tired, ragged, abused, but alive and their dreams of freedom fulfilled. I was tired, too tired to be happy or proud or scared or anything else. As soon as I remembered what happened, I sat upright and looked around for the avian. After a few seconds…_

"Hey, there. Looking for me?" The avian slumped down against the stack of metal crates beside Gage. "Didn't think you were gonna make it."

Gage blinked. The avian's black and white face was marred by blood and a crusty bandage wrapped around his head, covering the left eye. "Dear God. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about it. The tank got another shot off as I hauled you to the transport. Bit a' rock took me in the face and put out my eye. Medic fixed me up and patched up those burns for you."

Gage absently looked down at his torn shirt and the bandages on his torso. He didn't feel them. "I'm…I'm so sorry."

The avian wrinkled his brow in confusion. "For what?" His face lightened and he let out a brief laugh. "The eye? We all just escaped a Venomian prison with only one man lost, and you're sorry about this little scratch? We all owe you our lives. I would have given my eyes, arms, and legs to help you out of there. Half a year ago, I thought that modern war didn't allow for heroes anymore."

_ Hero…that was the first time I ever heard that word in any meaningful context. I didn't understand immediately. I was just doing what had to be done, what the colonel taught me, what a soldier had to do for his comrades. Earlier that night, I didn't even know if I'd be able to stand up on my own. And now a soldier who was obviously far more seasoned than I was had called me a hero. The eyes and smiles of the other prisoners told me that many of them agreed. During the long trip, they all thanked me at one point or another, though I can't recall all their faces. But I do remember that avian calling me a hero. I was a bit uncomfortable with it, so I tried bringing up the only other issue on my mind._

"Is there a colonel on board?"

The avian shook his head solemnly. "We're all non-coms here. They interrogated officers first and executed them all. My platoon's commander was already injured; he didn't last too long. Colonel Jaeger was his name."

That sounded like Gage's friend, but it couldn't be. "There was an injured colonel in the cell behind mine but he was alive even up until today. He's not here?"

"No." The avian hesitated a moment. "He was taken to interrogation past my cell every time. A few months ago, he never came back. You sure?"

_I stayed silent the rest of the trip. I didn't want to entertain the notion that I was starting to go nuts and that for the past few months the colonel had actually been dead. They say combat stress and being cooped up in places like that can make people experience strange things. It took me some time, but eventually I realized that it didn't matter. I passed every psych test, so my temporary insanity was gone. I even thought that maybe the colonel really was still alive and it was the avian who was mistaken. Did he really plan the escape, or did I do it myself? Who knows? I guess I'll never know. But it doesn't matter. We made it home alive._

_I never felt as serene and safe as the first few days back in friendly hands. After a series of long debriefs, the officer in charge said that I had impressed quite a few people with my "courage, combat skill, and quick thinking." They asked if I was willing to get back into the war, but under special forces training. I was nervous at first, but I said yes. I was starting to become comfortable as a soldier and small, well-planned precision operations seemed preferable to mass-infantry massacres. Then, well…_

_

* * *

  
_

"…one thing led to another and here I am entertaining two women in my room with a disappointing lack of physical contact."

Though Gage had been afraid the story would bore them, Fara paid rapt attention with a constant, serious look on her face. Krystal, on the other hand, knelt squeezing the pillow in her arms with her jaw literally hanging open. Gage had forgot what it was like to evoke that look amongst civilians who had never seen war; he allowed himself a moment to enjoy it.

"You know," Fara finally said. "I remember every now and then they would have these medal ceremonies on the news. Did you ever…"

Gage nodded. "The Medal of Honor for valor beyond the call of duty."

"Wow, really?" Krystal regained her composure. "That's, like, a big one, right?"

"The highest medal possible in the military," Fara answered. "That's pretty impressive. Why didn't you tell us sooner? I don't think Bill even knows."

"He doesn't. Neither does Fox, now that I think about it. It's no big deal…it's just a medal."

"Huh. I noticed you don't wear any ribbons or awards. You don't believe in heroes either, do you?"

"I do. I just believe that those who are able to be heroes are morally obliged to be. I don't need a medal to tell me what I did, and I don't want it to speak for me to other people."

Fara chuckled and stood up. She patted Gage on the leg. "You're a dying breed, Captain Birse. Thanks for the story. I'm going to try to call Fox McCloud before he goes to bed; I never did get to talk to him after our little adventure. Good night."

"I guess I better go also," Krystal said with pouting lips. "God knows how long it'll take me to get past those hormone-crazed grunts out there. But hey, great story! Though I'll take my chances out there rather than hear about another head getting blown apart. Nighty-night!" As she followed Fara out, Krystla hesitated at the doorway and leaned back inside, her face a bit more stoic. "Listen…I probably didn't show it when I was hitting you the whole parachute drop down, but…well, you know, like thanks and everything for saving me…or whatever. That whole story just now seems so unreal. I can't imagine doing what you do."

"Your welcome, Kristine."

She smiled and waved before disappearing into the corridor.

Alone again, Gage felt strangely incomplete, as if he was the one listening to the story and it had ended before the conclusion. He reached under his bed, pulled out, his medal box and rested it on the mattress. Though a vast array of awards greeted him when he opened the lid, he only looked for one. It lay buried under two rows of ribbons and a bit of the box's velvet lining; a gold star with the Cornerian Army emblem in the middle amongst engraved laurels, hanging on a purple ribbon. His first award. The beginning of a career. No, not a career…a purpose. A calling.

Gage held the Medal of Honor firmly in his hand, feeling the star points press against his fingers. Though he had just told the story to the two women, he let the events play out again in his head, this time only for him, allowing him to remember at his own pace the months and climactic night that turned him from a civilian into a soldier.


	8. Queen's Gambit

Author's Note: It might be a good idea to re-read the last half-page or so of Chapter 4 (not the Interlude) because this chapter dives right in. Thanks to my recurring readers and reviewers and newcomers alike. According to the traffic page, there are quite a few more out there so I encourage you to review and let me know what you think. I value reader feedback immensely. Well, you didn't come to hear he gab so on to the story! -Foxmerc

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CHAPTER 5  
Queen's Gambit  
_Great Fox, captain's quarters  
2338 hours_

_-_

"Peppy…dear God…what are you doing?"

Fox lay on his bed, propped up on his elbows and still as the tense air in the room. He hadn't yet wrapped his mind around the situation and found no logical way to do so; how could the man who was his best friend for most of his life and father for the latter years be two seconds away from shooting him? Peppy stared at him over the pistol's iron sights, his bloodshot eyes a watery mess of pain, determination, and sadness. Fox gathered his wits and was sure to keep eye contact and keep still: don't startle him and don't look away and give him an opportunity to forget who he was pointing the gun at.

"I'm sorry, Fox," the hare whispered.

"You don't have to be sorry because you didn't do anything." Fox spoke evenly and with the most confidence he could muster. "Just keep it that way. Put the gun down and we can—"

"Don't do that, Fox. Don't do that hostage negotiation tripe."

Fox took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. He had never seen Peppy so haggard, so distraught; it was as if he was living a nightmare. "Fine then. Why are you pointing a gun at me?"

"I knew it wasn't over. I knew one day it would all come back to destroy me and everything I love. You…my family…"

Though his cryptic words meant nothing to Fox, they reminded him of the destroyed Arwing hangar he had seen that day. He had felt the same uneasy stirring that something from the war had refused to rest in peace. "Is your family okay?"

The pistol shook in Peppy's hands. His words became choked in suppressed tears. "I made a promise to my wife. Amelia wanted me to quit, but I couldn't. I promised her that my job would never interfere with her or my son. I told her that Everett would grow up safe and healthy."

"My father told me that he made a similar promise to my mother. Look what happened. We can't control everything."

A hint of anger glimmered in Peppy's eyes at the mention of James McCloud. "Your father was reckless and rash. I tried everything I could to not follow his mistakes. But now…she's going to kill my son because of me. I can't let that happen. I have to give her what she wants."

"Who's going to kill Everett? Who are you talking about?"

Peppy's grimace deepened and he said with a sardonic rasp, "The heir to Venom. Andross' wife."

"What?" Questions raced through Fox's mind but they subsided when he noticed that the gun had stopped quivering. Determination had returned to Peppy's eyes and he carefully aimed the gun, taking his time. "Peppy…Peppy, no…"

"I'm sorry, Fox."

The shot was deafening in the enclosed room. Fox slumped against the bed as the laser took him in the upper left arm, just under his shoulder. He gasped as the initial shock wore off and searing heat overtook his entire arm. He had been shot before yet the surprise, proximity, and especially the personal nature of this injury made it more painful. He clutched his arm yet it only enhanced the burning as if a white-hot iron had been pressed against his flesh. The smell of singed fur filled the air and added to the delirium. Finally, he remembered to breath and took several gasping breaths before his eyes focused again.

Before he could contemplate whether the missed kill shot was deliberate or not, Peppy was upon him. The hare pinned his stomach down with one knee and grabbed the injured arm, provoking a shriek of pain from his victim. He ejected the energy clip from his pistol and shoved it into Fox's muzzle between his teeth.

"Bite down on this," Peppy said. "You'll need it."

Fox could not find the strength to fight back, even when he heard the metallic click of a pocket knife being unfolded. He took a glance up, saw the knife in Peppy's hand, and closed his jaw hard on the clip. No amount of preparation could have readied him for the pain. As the knife entered the blackened, bloody wound, it blinded him with pain and choked him with so many screams that none could escape his tightened throat. He only felt the burning, excruciating agony of the knife rooting around against his muscles and tendons for a few seconds before blacking out.

His pain followed him into a relentless dream of black and red, flashes and darkness, nightmarish shapes, all finally ending with a voice.

"_Fox…"_

He became aware of physical pain again.

"Fox!"

His eyes flew open and the world spun, a new headache adding to the pain. He realized he was still lying on his bed and tried to sit up without vomiting from dizziness. His blanket was soaked with blood but his arm had been bandaged, though it would take more than that for the pain to decrease. He gazed around the room as if still in a dream and saw Slippy beside him, worry shadowing his eyes. Where was Peppy? What time was it? What had happened? Slippy could practically see the questions in Fox's confused manner and settled him back down.

"Take it easy," the toad said. "You lost a good bit of blood. You'll probably feel light-headed for awhile." He let out a long, relieved sigh. "Thank God you're alright. I nearly lost it when I came in here and saw all this. Looked like a scene from a horror movie."

"Where-" Fox cleared his throat and tried to wet his cotton-dry mouth. "Where's Peppy?"

The worry on Slippy's face only deepened. "Everyone's in the rec room. Gage said he couldn't sleep after talking with Krystal and that Fara mercenary back on the Vanguard so he took a shuttle over here to see if anyone was still up. He ran into Peppy in the corridor and saw all the blood and everything. Peppy apparently pointed the gun at him and told him to step aside but…" He tried a light chuckle but it seemed unnatural in the mood. "…well, you know Gage. Nearly broke Peppy's arm disarming him. Peppy's a wreck. He's just sitting there staring blankly. I'm not much of a doctor, but I think he's in some kind of emotional shock. Gage says it reminds him of shell-shock that soldiers get. Thousand-yard stare, he called it."

"How long have I been out?"

"Half-hour maybe."

"It took him that long to get to the hangar?"

"He probably would have been long gone, but he stayed to bandage your arm I think. It was already there when I came in."

Fox looked down at the bandage and allowed a bit of hope. Peppy didn't kill him or Gage when he had the chance and even stayed to patch him up. That was enough evidence for Fox to believe that his friend hadn't turned traitor and gone totally insane. Something else had happened to him and it all started when he received that damn letter before he disappeared, addressed from his wife. But why would he…

"Did he say what he was doing?" Fox asked as he glanced at his wounded arm. He flexed it a couple times; despite the sharp pain, nothing critical had been damaged. "I remember a knife in my arm, then…"

Slippy swallowed hard. "Maybe you better just come see."

Fox stood carefully and kept a hand on the foot of the bed for support. When his head didn't revolt against the movement with another dizzy spell, he straightened and followed Slippy into the corridor. A three-minute walk brought them to a somber gathering in the brightly lit recreation room. Peppy sat slumped on one of the white couches, his head down and his blood-caked hands on his lap. Gage stood behind him with his arms crossed and a watchful gaze as Falco leaned against the bar at the rear of the room, a half empty glass of bourbon in his hand.

"How is it?" Gage asked, nodding to the arm.

"I'll live." Fox slowly approached Peppy. He sat on the coffee table in front of the hare and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. Peppy didn't look up or even acknowledge that anyone had come into the room.

"Careful," Falco said as he stepped next to Gage, drink still in-hand. "He ain't been looking right. Creeping the hell outta me."

"He's fine. You're fine, right Peppy? I know you wouldn't kill me or Gage or Slippy and Falco. Right?"

Fox didn't expect much, but he earned a small nod from his friend.

"You're scaring all of us, Peppy. We want to help with whatever happened but we need to know everything. You fought beside me countless times. You were my father when I had no one else. You're the toughest and most dependable pilot I ever knew. I need you to be like that again if we're going to get through this."

The words, however, earned nothing in return. Fox let out a small sigh through his nose and thought better of how to get through to him when Gage spoke up instead.

"What he's trying to say is he needs you to get your shit together and start acting like the soldier you've always been."

The harsh approach evoked startled looks from the team and a glare of warning from the captain's fellow fox. But just as Fox opened his mouth to try and soften the blow, Peppy looked up. His eyes retained a nearly tangible desperation but they appeared more focused, certainly more approachable than when he had a gun in front of them. The sudden connection to Peppy's younger, more confident days as a pilot with James had helped to pull him back.

"Can I have a wet towel?" the hare asked in an ear whisper.

Fox raised his eyebrows at Falco, who hurried to the bar and ran a hand towel under the faucet. Peppy used it to wipe the blood from his hands and forearms, turning the towel almost completely red. Fox's stomach turned a bit when he remembered that it was all his.

"Everett's in trouble." Peppy's voice remained low and ashamed but he spoke without the wild fear from earlier. "That letter I received from Amelia was a threat. The bitch was taunting me using my wife's address, telling me she knows where my family lives."

"What bitch?" The answer came to Fox just as he finished the word. "She's the same one who's behind this pirate activity, isn't she? The same one who sent those strange messages to our monitors. You said she was Andross' wife, the heir to Venom. That fits with that first message that was sent to us and the Vanguard during that first battle."

Peppy nodded. "I've kept a few things from you over the years, Fox. I can't tell you everything but I'll tell you enough. I didn't escape Venom after that mission that orphaned you and put Starfox in your hands. I was released. Andross wanted Arwing technology…weapons, the G-Diffuser system, everything. Ever since the military rejected the Arwing as being too cost-ineffective, he knew that only James and Slippy's father held copies of the full schematics and tech reports. Beltino Toad had already gone into hiding and I knew where to find James' copy. So Andross released me to get it and bring it back; he said if I didn't return, he would send assassins to kill you, my wife and son, me, Slippy and his father…anyone I ever cared about. I didn't know Falco at the time or I'm sure he would have been on the list, too."

"So…" Fox took a moment to process all that had been said. "So you were supposed to deliver the Arwing schematics to Andross but you obviously didn't."

"No. Andross tried to build some himself from bits and pieces of intel but he never finished, as far as I know. I put family into hiding and vowed to fight back. I knew Andross; I knew he would kill us all anyway. Fortunately, the war didn't go well for him after the first month or so. I don't think he anticipated all of us joining forces so quickly. He either figured we weren't a priority anymore or just didn't care to risk it. Either way, when we killed Andross I dared to hope that it was all over. But apparently his wife survived and is now looking to collect on the debt."

"What's this new queen's name?" Gage asked.

"She calls herself Dianus. From what I experienced so many years ago under her and Andross, she can be just as cold and calculated as her dead husband. She learned from the best. She wants the Arwings to build up her forces and she knows that Beltino and I never sold them to anyone else and never would."

"Why didn't she go after my dad?" Slippy said with a small quiver of worry.

"I think he's safe. He works in the most secure military compound on Corneria." Peppy hesitated. "I also think this is more personal. She wanted the schematics, but she wanted you as well, Fox. You did kill her husband, after all. If I delivered you to her, she would get both."

It suddenly clicked in Fox's mind and he wondered how the hell he missed it all up until then. "My arm…you hid the schematics inside me!"

Gage leaned forward and placed a thin chip no longer than the tip of his pinky on the table. "Nanocarbon. Nontoxic, not visible on scans or X-rays, insulated to protect it from fluids and mild trauma."

"It was your father's idea," Peppy continued. "He wanted to put it in the most unthinkable place with the person he loved most. This way you would always be its guardian and I could retrieve it if you died. If you were destroyed in space, the Arwing files would be lost and the secret would be safe. But Dianus knows you have it. I just couldn't bring myself to take you to her or kill you. I figured if I had the chip, I could at least use that to buy my family's safety. I'm sorry. I panicked and I nearly gave the most dangerous woman in the galaxy the most powerful air-to-air spacecraft in the galaxy. I just couldn't believe it was all happening again and now my son is being threatened again. Amelia was hysterical. I put her in protective custody at the Corneria City HQ but the letter said that if I so much as approach the Academy where Everett is, someone will kill him. The letter said people are always watching him. I can't lose him, Fox. If I lose him…"

"I know." Fox stood and paced beside the couch, his mind ablaze. The prospect of having a data chip in his arm for so many years wasn't nearly as unsettling a prospect as the idea of another Andross rising to power, a tyrant with the cold ruthlessness to attack her enemies' families. That could wait. Seeing what she did to Peppy made his blood boil. He took a breath to remain calm and turned to Gage. "Listen, I know you're probably supposed to report him as an unstable threat or something."

"As long as he doesn't have the data, there's no threat." Gage retrieved the computer chip and placed it into Fox's palm. "I can't take this since it's still Starfox property and I don't think you want to shove it back into your arm. What do you want to do with it?"

Fox looked down at the tiny disk on his palm and marveled at how much could be contained in something so small. Not only galaxy-changing data, but the prospect for so much loss. It was the legacy of Starfox and Beltino Toad, a masterwork of aeronautical engineering that proved too costly for the military and too enticing for private mercenary groups and pirates. Even the worst pilot in the world could prove a threat inside an Arwing. Like an unstable bomb, the Arwing takes a master to use effectively, but even a destructive psychopath can cause damage with it. Fox placed the chip on the table, stood, and took Gage's pistol from the captain's holster. Without missing a beat, he aimed and fired a single shot. The laser pierced the table, vaporizing the chip, and left a smoking burn on the carpet beneath. He handed the pistol back to Gage.

"Beltino Toad is a good, honorable man who lives in the most secure place on Corneria. He has always been there for Starfox. I entrust him with the last of the Arwing data."

Slippy grinned a bit with pride at those words. It had always been the toad's dream to follow in his father's footsteps and retire to a life of engineering and discovery when the time was right. Slippy considered the Arwing to be his father's greatest accomplishment and now it truly belonged only to Beltino.

"Peppy." Fox sat on the couch beside the hare. "We're going to get Everett out of the Academy. You can't be seen going back to Corneria or it might find its way back to Dianus, so I need you to stay here and trust us. The three of us will—"

"Four," Gage interrupted.

Fox nodded. "The four of us will get him back. I need you to tell us everything that was in that letter, anything that might help us. We proved once that Andross can't hurt our families and get away with it. Now let's prove it to his bitch of a wife."

_Cornerian Flight Academy, cathedral plaza  
1040 hours_

_-_

The Cornerian Flight Academy appeared to be something of a reverse anachronism, a campus of stone structures and age-old architecture, of archaic towers and a steeple-topped cathedral, of tradition and respect. Originally a naval academy, it was only natural for the torch to be passed to space pilots when the technology came about. Though the curriculum changed and the students learned of ion thrusters and zero-gravity rather than mainmasts and trade winds, the molding of pilots and soldiers had remained constant and time-honored. Though such words as honor, respect, and tradition had lost their value in civilian society, the ancient halls of the CFA never let them fade.

For Fox, it seemed almost like coming home.

At 10:42 in the morning, classes were still in session. Fox stood in the main plaza, a cobblestone courtyard with a large fountain in the middle and a wide stone staircase to the north leading up to the cathedral's walkway. Dormitories and study halls bordered the edges of the plaza, fifty yards in any direction, with rows of trees, benches, and lamp posts filling the space in between. The CFA was considered the finest flight school on the planet, perhaps in the galaxy, and those caring for it strove to make it look as such. Fox could almost see himself again as a teenager in his gray uniform, trying to push Bill into the lamp posts as they walked past them or leaning against the fountain while waiting for the cathedral bell to ring, signaling a new hour and a new class to get to. With class in session, only a dozen or so idle students occupied the plaza, either sitting at the benches or hurrying somewhere else.

"_This is Shield One. Rescue team, check in."_

Fox blinked away his memories as his earpiece hummed to life with Gage's voice. "Shield Two, ready at the fountain."

"_Shield Three," _Falco said, "_Ready at the west end of the plaza."_

Slippy followed. _"Shield Four here. Noisemaker in place, awaiting order."_

"_This is One. We just got the go-ahead from the Dean but he doesn't like this one bit. Fortunately, he also doesn't like one of his students being threatened by trespassers. I gave him my word as Dagger commander that we would extract Everett Hare with zero friendly casualties. We can afford absolutely no slip-ups. We have the element of surprise and we have to make the best of it."_

"Is there any more information on who we're up against?" Fox asked.

"_Negative. Highest probability is two to three snipers to cover all the angles, but be ready for anything. Class lets out in ten minutes. He'll be coming down the cathedral walkway, past the fountain, then west across the plaza if his routine holds. You all know what to do. Look sharp."_

Fox glanced at the clock tower to the east beyond the plaza every minute or so, his stomach tied up in knots. More than his life rode on this mission; it wasn't so long ago that tragedy struck him at that very academy when he learned of his father's death. He refused to let Andross or his wife sully the Academy again, especially using Peppy's family. Fox wasn't sure how he would have ended up without Peppy in his life; putting himself between danger and Everett was the least he could do.

The cathedral bell sounded, belting out its ancient song and following it with a chime for each hour. The bell echoed throughout the plaza, through Fox's ears, and finally faded to silence again. Soon, the sound was replaced by the cacophony of voices and footsteps. From the academic halls past the cathedral and bordering the plaza came a wave of gray-clad students. The plaza, nearly empty only a minute before, became as packed as a mall on Saturday with cadets rushing every which way, meeting and leaving, laughing and shouting, idling and scurrying…and turning Fox's search into a nightmare. He took a deep breath and focused on the cathedral stairs. He let his eyes dart as they please, scanning faces and moving on. It was finally the prominent hare ears that gave Everett away. Fox felt a surge of relief upon spotting the teenager as he moseyed down the stairs, his eyes downcast and absorbed in a textbook. Though it had been a while since he had seen Everett, Fox recognized him immediately: the gray-brown fur, his mother's wide eyes, and the slender physique that was the topic of many jokes poking fun at Peppy's relative heft.

"I have eyes on target," Fox said. "Moving to follow; three, move to intercept. On my word."

Fox wedged his way into the crowd. The heavy body armor under his jacket and strapped to his arms and legs made his movements awkward and weighted. The armor on his legs was all that really showed to an observer but so far no one had noticed the subtle black padding. He turned his shoulders left and right and took short, skidding steps like a ballroom dancer moving through a crowded dance floor. He slowed his pace upon moving within ten feet of Everett and kept that distance. Over the cadets' heads, he caught a glimpse of blue feathers moving toward him across the plaza. Another twenty seconds or so and they would meet.

"Four, hit it in ten seconds."

Fox mentally counted the time down, his heart rate increasing with each tick of the clock in his mind. At eight seconds, he raised the helmet that had been in his hand the entire time and quickly placed it over his ears and fastened the strap under his muzzle. The blue head that was now nearly in front of Everett mirrored the action.

_Ten._

The grassy dirt around several trees near the fountain erupted as gunfire shattered the busy peace of the plaza…or at least it sounded and appeared to be gunfire. Dirt flew into the air, bark splintered, and the leaves of the shrubberies were torn loose from their hedges. It only took a few people to shout, "gun!" before the plaza became a panicked mass of teenagers. The only thing that prevented a full scale riotous trample was the mild training as soldiers each student underwent daily. That, however, was not enough to stave off panic. Though Slippy's kinetic decoys wore out after about fifteen seconds, it was enough to get everyone running. Fox and Falco doubled their pace, shoving through the rampant crowd. Everett had remained calmer than most others, his head up and alert and his eyes wide with surprise and fear. As the plaza emptied and the crowd of students thinned, Fox and Falco charged toward the young hare. Everett noticed Falco ahead of him and opened his mouth to scream. Whatever sound would have come forth was drowned out by a sudden sharp crack.

"_Sniper!" _Gage shouted. _"East clocktower!"_

The air split beside Fox's head as the bullet whizzed by his ear and struck the stone ground. He and Falco collided with each other, Everett sandwiched between them. Fox grabbed him in a bear hug while Falco put his hands around Fox's shoulders and shielded Everett's front. Another crack and Fox stumbled forward, sharp pain throbbing in the small of his back. He gritted his teeth against the shot and moved forward toward the west end of the plaza.

"_They're not using lasers…having trouble tracking. Stand by."_

Another burst of pain erupted in Fox's back. "God damnit, Gage!"

A lower, more thunderous crack echoed from the cathedral and drowned out the last part of Fox's rant.

"_Sniper down. Keep moving."_

The journey across the plaza was slow with each mercenary being sure that Everett was completely protected. Halfway between the fountain and the west road, a thud sounded against Falco's helmet and he fell to the ground just as the sound of the shot caught up with the bullet. Fox dropped to his knees and leaned over Everett while looking in horror at his friend and fearing the worst. However, Falco rose with an angry growl and a chunk of his helmet missing and shook his head a couple times. Another shot took him in the shoulder but he shook it off with a grunt and resumed his place in the living shield wall. Fox recognized the sound of the friendly rifle a few moments later.

"_Sniper down."_

"_This is four. I'm in position and waiting."_

Fox looked up and saw the silver Cornerian Army APC idling at the west road beyond the plaza. He and Falco kept moving. Everett either knew enough not to fight back or was too scared to do so but either way the lack of resistance helped the flow of their huddle. They hurried on, mentally preparing themselves for the shock of more bullet impacts. What Fox was not prepared for was the sound of a revving engine and the nerve-grating squeal of tires. Fox dared a look over his shoulder. A civilian truck had careened into the plaza from the east road and steadied into a beeline toward its three targets. Their armor could absorb most of a bullets shock, but not a bullet that big.

"Gage…" Fox said as calmly as he could.

"_Stand by."_

The engine grew to a roar as the truck bore down on them. Its massive frame blotted out all else in view.

"Gage!"

Fox didn't hear the shot over the truck's clamor. Just as Fox dove forward, pushing Everett and Falco to the ground, a bullet pierced the truck's roof, created a mess of red on the windshield, exited the driver's side door, and sunk into the leg of a bench with a high, metallic _ping_ that hung in the air as the vehicle swerved and tumbled onto its side. The tires spun madly in the air so close to the trio that Fox could smell the hot rubber emanating from them.

From his perch in the cathedral bell tower, Gage eased his eye away from the scope of his rifle and let out a relieved sigh. "This is one; looks like your clear. Zero collateral damage. Get to the APC and pick me up behind the church."

Gage watched as the two mercenaries brought the kid safely to the APC. With most of his missions involving destruction and people behind the scenes, he felt the rare satisfaction of a personal mission accomplished. He ejected the rifle's mag, pulled the bolt back to clear the chamber, flipped the lens protector back down over the scope ends, and silently gloated to Dianus across the galaxy.

Peppy awoke with a start and a light snort. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. He had been nodding off for the past few hours as he sat in the Great Fox captain's chair, watching the serene LDC Vanguard through the bridge canopy. He hadn't slept in days – it had been nearly thirty six hours since everyone left for Corneria – yet his worry overcame his exhaustion. He wouldn't sleep until he knew Everett was safe. He checked his watch again: it would be nearly noon at the CFA. The mission would be over one way or the other by now. With a few deep breaths, he soothed his mind. Fox would succeed. Fox would pull through.

Darkness suddenly shrouded the bridge: power failure.

"ROB, what's going on?"

The robot slid to a couple different stations before responding. "Outside interference." No sooner had he said the two words than the lights hummed back to life and all the blinking consoles and flashing monitors that only Slippy knew what the hell were for booted up again. "System restored. Running diagnostic."

Peppy's brow furrowed. On one of the monitors beside the first mate's chair on the tier below him the normal green-hued screen was black with a single line of text in the middle. A pit formed in his stomach. Like a man approaching the scene of a tragedy, he slowly rose and stepped over to the monitor. Upon seeing the text his eyes welled with tears of anger, sorrow, exhaustion, and regret. Though the message hinted that Everett still lived, it brought with it an omen that could render all effort for naught. He grabbed hold of it with both hands for support but collapsed to his knees anyway.

"Leave us alone," he choked. "Why won't you leave us alone?"

Peppy couldn't bear to raise his head again to see whether the simple message still remained:

_You can't protect everyone_

_**-Chapter 6 coming soon!-**_


	9. The Face of Fear

Author's Note: Bit of a longer chapter this time but hopefully you'll find it all interesting and worth the read. I also wanted to mention that I realized how seemingly simple or even cliche Dianus or Fara may seem to be but that's an unfortunate side effect of posting a story episodically. Whereas one can just keep reading to find out things in a full book, here you have a week or two to lose interest or have second thoughts. All I ask is that you trust me and trust that everything has been presented so far for a reason and the future of this story is most definitely not what it first appears. Thank you all for your continued readership! -Foxmerc

-

CHAPTER 6  
The Face of Fear  
_Fairington military landing pad, Macbeth  
1801 hours_

_-  
_

For the first time since his assignment to the LDC Vanguard, Gage stepped foot onto a planet without his weapons, without his gear, and without the express directive of killing anyone. Instead, he descended from the shuttle in gray slacks, dress shoes, and a black blazer that he borrowed from Fox. Fara stepped down beside him amongst a small crowd of soldiers from the Vanguard taking advantage of a night's leave. She wore strap high heels and a purple sleeveless dress with a long slit down the left side that earned long stares from the soldiers during the shuttle's voyage. Gage didn't feel so bad about having to borrow normal clothes from Fox since the dress was on loan from Krystal's very limited salvageable wardrobe.

The Macbethian city of Fairington stretched before them. Late dusk illuminated the sparse skyscrapers in a hazy glow and cast an orange overlay upon the lower buildings and rural industrial complexes. Fairington tried hard to be a city with a classy downtown and respectable status yet its economy had relied heavily upon the metal and refinement industries ever since the war. One could walk around the recently-built skyscrapers that formed the inner city blocks and be reminded of the splendor of Corneria City, yet the façade dissipated shortly upon traveling a few miles into the industrial areas. Dreams and nightmares of desperate wartime production still lingered in those structures and the minds of those who worked there. Macbeth was on the frontline of the war against Andross and the numerous overworked mills proved it. Though Gage admired the city's spirited drive to prosper, he wondered if some areas would ever be able to forget. His own wartime scars had originated on this planet, after all.

A taxi brought them downtown, weaving in and out of the dense traffic in a deft yet terrifying way that only urban taxi drivers could accomplish. It dropped them at the plate glass façade of the White Flame Grille, as advertised by the length of elegantly curved neon in the window that spelled out its name. The restaurant was sparsely populated given the hour; the host seated them right away at a table for two near the window. Gage found the décor to be pleasantly compromising: candles for a touch of snobbishness yet laminated menu pages for a less uptight feel.

Fara took her menu and glanced around with a little grin of satisfaction. "You still haven't answered my question, you know."

"Huh?" Gage realized they hadn't spoken a word since they landed. He opened his own menu and mentally erased the more expensive choices. Putting on a blazer didn't make his soldier's paycheck any fatter. "What question?"

"You said Admiral McGarret gave you a day off and you wanted to take me to dinner. I asked if you were taking me on a date. You just grumbled something and told me to meet you at the shuttle."

"Oh." Forty credits for prime rib?"I dunno, do you want it to be a date?"

"You don't seem like the dating type. In fact, it's pretty strange being here with you. You don't seem like a guy who can turn his military brain off for a night."

Settled. Cheeseburger. Cheap and classic. Gage closed his menu. "I don't. Before we sat down I knew every possible exit, weapon, and defensive point in this place. Not to mention an adversarial assessment on everyone in here. I don't try, it just happens. I'm sure a master painter walks in here and sees artistic ideas and things or notices the beauty of a waitress. I walk in here and assess whether these forks could easily pierce her throat."

Fara blinked and closed her menu as well. "Wow, you sure know how to make a girl swoon."

"Honestly, most leave days I either don't take or just go bowling or to a bar with the guys on my team. I haven't been out with a woman since…hmm, two years I guess. I dunno, I just don't see the point in trying for a relationship when it's doomed from the start."

"Doomed?"

"Yeah. Regular army officers and non-coms have families and even that can be pretty stressful on them. When you get into my line of work, the kind where they have to classify your death as a training accident if you're killed in the field, then getting married is just cruel. I don't want a woman worrying about me day and night and being alone on these long tours. I also don't want to worry about someone when my job requires absolute focus. And look what happened to Peppy's family. Dagger isn't exactly popular in parts of the galaxy either and if anyone ever cracked our identities and personal info…well, you get it. Besides all that, I'm not exactly what a woman is looking for in a man. I'm married to the job."

"You've given this a lot of thought, huh?"

Gage shrugged. "Some leave days I take a jaunt to the closest red light district. Gets me thinking."

The waiter, a tall dull red avian, approached their table to take their order. Fara ordered a foreign-named chicken dish which Gage remembered was moderately priced; very considerate of her. After the waiter left, Fara started talking again. From her eagerness, Gage wondered if he wasn't the only one who found this "date" a welcome change from a mostly lonesome life.

"I was thinking," she said, stroking under her muzzle. "The Dagger team was only recently recognized officially. I know you guys still do top-secret things, but what about when you were totally black-ops? Did your team do any high-profile missions that someone else took credit for like in all those spy movies?"

"Sure, all the time. Most have been declassified though you'd still have to root around to find any legal info."

Fara rubbed her hands together. "Ooh, this should be a neat little party game. Alright, let's see…the train hijacking in Eastwell a few years back."

"Nope, local police. You think we'd let a suspect get away?"

"Hostage situation on the Transcorp freighter, credited to Katina SWAT."

"Us."

"Hmm, what about that subway explosion they said was due to a gas leak in the tunnels."

"Oh God, you conspiracy theorists. It was just a stupid gas leak near an empty train car."

"Oh yeah? Well what ruptured the gas pipe and ignited the gas near this supposedly empty car?"

Gage cleared his throat and took a sip from his water glass. "That's classified."

"I knew it! I knew that whole story sounded fishy. Oh, here's a big one. What about that infamous bank robbery in downtown Corneria City credited to CCPD? The one that spilled out into the streets."

"Us." Gage hesitated. "Well, me actually. My team left HQ for training exercises the previous day and I was supposed to follow after finishing some paperwork. This bank robbery turned into a hostage situation and command wanted me on-site for advisement. I had only been captain of Dagger for two months at that time. The police chief wanted me to lead one of the SWAT elements. After seeing how bad the situation was I agreed. It turned out to be a whole lot worse."

"I remember the news coverage. It's a miracle the police pulled a victory out of that chaos. Wow, that was you?"

"Yeah." Gage took another long sip of water. "Not a fun day."

"Maybe I'll get you drunk enough to tell me about it. You know what a war story buff I am."

"Actually," Gage straightened in his chair. He had been waiting for an opening to change the subject and finally found it. "I have to admit that I had another reason for taking you out here. You know a bit about me, but I don't know anything about you."

Fara's cheerful demeanor darkened and she shrunk back a bit in apprehension. "You mean Admiral McGarret doesn't know anything about me and doesn't trust me. What, did he send you out to interrogate me?"

"No, but can you blame the mistrust? Honestly, if it was my ship, I wouldn't keep you aboard. All we really know is that you're an independent mercenary who got on the pirates' bad side. Now that we know this Dianus is behind all the trouble we have to check every angle. McGarret's also suspicious of a leak aboard the Vanguard."

"What about you? Do you trust me?"

Gage met her stone gaze for a few moments. "I go by what I know. I know that those pirates didn't like you too much when we found you. I know that you gave some useful intel to McGarret, albeit a small amount. But I also know that you haven't exactly been fighting to get off the Vanguard and back to your life. You're also pretty secretive which doesn't make the admiral happy."

"That doesn't answer my question. Do you trust me?"

"No. I hate mercenaries. I think they're the scum of the galaxy."

Fara's genuinely hurt look didn't faze him though it did arouse a tiny, uncomfortable twinge in his gut. She folded her hands on the table and the hurt expression immediately disappeared behind forced contempt. "Is that so?"

"In general, yes. Starfox is a pretty unique exception, given their policies on which contracts they take and their close relationship with the military. But Dagger has gone up against a fair share of mercs and they're all money-grubbing, heartless killers who pick up a gun just to make a credit, to hell with whoever gets in their way. Any good-intentioned merc has a lot of proving to do for me to not want to kill him, let alone trust him."

"And you can talk of killing with a straight face?"

Gage strummed his fingers on the table a few times before answering. "I made my peace with my job a long time ago. When I kill, I know that it has to be done and it has to be done for a purpose greater than padding my wallet. Most mercenaries I see are little more than thugs with a fancy name. They touch a special nerve with me. You know that bank job you were just talking about? I don't know if I would've been able to pull that off if I didn't know that the robbers were mercs. Knowing that gave me an extra drive."

Fara didn't answer. She just sat with her hands folded and her eyes cold, stuck between sadness and anger.

"Listen, I don't think you're a cold-blooded killer. Call it intuition. I actually really like being with you. But I can't afford to trust you until I know more about you. This isn't about me, this is about the entire Vanguard and some psychotic ape lady pulling the strings of very dangerous people. Can you work with me? Can you answer some questions?"

Fara lowered her eyes.

"I'll pick up the whole check."

She grinned in spite of herself and whispered a moment later, "Fine. But only because I'm daring to trust you." She swallowed. "And I like being with you, too."

* * *

-

_LDC Vanguard, bridge tactical room  
1823 hours local time_

_-_

Fox rubbed his eyes and sighed. He had taken off his jacket hours ago but the small mission planning room still felt like a sauna. Admiral McGarret stood rigid and unfazed before the wall-size array of monitors, each displaying any element in the database that could pertain to the pirates or the mysterious Dianus. The data did not amount to much: snippets from the war, mission intel from the recent pirate assignments, hot spots of pirate activity…nothing of any concrete help.

"Sir, we've been at this all day," Fox said as he dropped into one of the chairs against the right wall. "Are you sure you need me for this?"

The admiral continued to let his eyes dart from one monitor to the other. "I have half a dozen teams going over the intel but I want you with me. It's obvious Dianus directly targeted Starfox. She obviously has a bone to pick with you over her husband's death. You might see something that I won't; military minds and mercenary minds are similar yet distinct."

"Alright, let's go through it again. Dianus wants to challenge Lylat again like dear old Andross before her and hopefully punish Starfox along the way. Makes sense so far. But why so secretive? Andross loved to flaunt his power. I never even knew Andross had a wife. Why the secret?"

"Protection, maybe. Insurance. The military never knew of a wife so we never looked. It allowed her to disappear and bide her time."

"Possibly. So she builds her army from the drek that inhabited Venom airspace, namely pirates. Pays them well, trains them all, and somehow inspires loyalty."

McGarret grunted with a sardonic grin. "Andross had a silver tongue. Like any politician, he could make empty promises and gain loyalty amongst the desperate and weak as long as he spiced up the words. No doubt his wife paid attention and learned."

"We also know that she wants Arwings. And according to what I found on Titania, Andross came damn close to having them for himself."

"Which means that she's not strong enough to attack yet. She may play around and send her pirates to harass us but she can't launch an all-out assault on Lylat or even the Vanguard."

Fox looked up at McGarret and studied his face. "Sure seems that way. So we stay her, maintain a perimeter, and get some reinforcements from the LDC fleets. You look like you're taking this personally."

The old wolf grumbled and finally broke his gaze from the monitors. He turned away, took off his hat, and fidgeted with it in his hands. "I come from another era, McCloud. I'm used to standing tall and looking my opponents in the face. I still believe that a battle can have honor. These…pirates." He spat the word. "This coward that leads them; it just boils my blood. It used to be that commanders of opposing fleets would exchange intents and farewells over the comm before a battle began. But not anymore. Now they target combatants' families. God help our children's era."

"What can you expect from Andross' ilk? The only way they can win is if they play sleight of hand and pound us in the ass when we're not looking. Just look at the—"

His sentence was cut off by a sharp, resounding thump as the lights and monitors died. Fox felt a pit in his stomach and anticipated the resurgence of power a few seconds later before it happened. The monitors reflected a green-text startup program, bathing the room in a sickly lime glow. With eyes of steel, McGarret breezed by Fox and exited back onto the bridge. Each tier of personnel was rushing to reactivate their workstations and run checks on the Vanguard's equipment. Fox followed the admiral to his chair overlooking the lower tiers and looked uneasily around. The chaos sunk under his skin and grated his nerves; this whole escort job was supposed to be quick and easy, maybe even relaxing. Instead it had turned into the most trying experience since the war. His sleep was restless, his team was stressed, and the crew of the most powerful ship in the galaxy was being toyed with by a cursed extension of the Andross regime.

He knew it was coming. He knew it was coming before it began flickering simultaneously across every monitor on the bridge.

_Your ship remains. Like a busy bee at a picnic. If a busy bee refuses to be shooed away, it must be crushed._

McGarret's voice pierced the dead silence that had fallen over the bridge. "Lieutenant, boost the signal. Center it on the front screen."

A voice responded from the fore. "Aye, sir. Imaging and audio at full. Attempting trace."

The text became sharper and enhanced on the large center screen near the canopy window; it always reminded Fox of a movie theater screen with its size. He didn't know why they cared about getting a better look at plain green text, but then something new occurred. A shape began to form behind the text, shrouded and cloaked in shadow. Within half a minute, the screen plainly showed a female figure sitting at a chair, her legs crossed and one hand under her muzzle. The darkness had been masterfully manipulated to mask her identity and any features, even her color, yet ensure that the crew knew of her presence. Fox squinted and strained but he could make out nothing distinctive; it might as well have been a mannequin.

But she was definitely no mannequin. Her right hand rested on the arm of her chair and her fingers moved, typing away at a keypad attached to the arm. The audio signal had connected; the clicks and clacks of her rapid movements echoed throughout the bridge. Soon, another message overlapped her on the screen.

_My husband fought until the end. So do you, Admiral. And you, Fox McCloud. I'm glad you're here. I've wanted to see you for so long, ever since you took up arms against my husband. I would very much love to meet you._

"I bet you would," Fox mumbled. He glanced at McGarret. "Can she hear me?"

Another series of clicks.

_I can. You sound so different than your news clips and edited interviews. So normal, so fallible._

"Enough," McGarret said firmly. "Dianus, is it? Andross is dead. The war is over. Your delusions of revenge and power will not change that."

_Click click click_

_My husband's war is over. Mine has not yet begun. Dear Venom will soon give birth to my era._

"You really did spend a lot of time around Andross," Fox said. "That kind of blather brings back memories. I suppose you also think that only you have the 'brains' to rule Lylat."

_Click click click_

_How is your team faring, Fox McCloud? Beltino Toad keeping busy at Corneria City HQ? Falco Lombardi's squeeze Monroe still working the Zoness airspace? Oh, and poor Peppy Hare. I hear his son is rather shaken up._

Fox's jaw stiffened and he felt a rumbling in his chest. Before he could stop himself, the rumbling turned into words masked behind a growl. "You bitch. You cowardly bitch."

Admiral McGarret placed a hand on his shoulder and gently pulled him back. "What is it you contacted us for? To issue empty taunts?"

_Click click click_

_Mr. McCloud is showing my intent. Fear, Admiral McGarret. The strongest army in the universe cannot defend itself against fear, nor can the complacent people of Lylat. Until the LDC Vanguard leaves my territory and retreats past Macbeth, people will die. Your soldiers will die. Civilians will die. Your loved ones will die. Will your crew still fight when I track down and kill their mothers, fathers, siblings, children, one by one?_

"Your cowardice proves your weakness."

With a white blink, the video feed of Dianus and her text disappeared, replaced by a vista of starry space. There, drifting in the emptiness, was the Great Fox as viewed through one of the Vanguard's starboard surveillance cameras. The pit returned to Fox's stomach and at that moment he finally realized why he had been on edge and why the admiral felt out of place in this fight. They were not dealing with a general or chancellor or even a power-mad tyrant like Andross; they were dealing with a murderer, a glorified killer who conducted war with no rules, no boundaries, and no mercy. A killer with a fixation on Fox. As he looked at his home on the monitor he knew that any act of horror was possible.

_Let us see who is truly weak. Fox McCloud, my men have planted explosives on your ship while you were away. Your team is unaware. Take out your pistol and shoot Admiral McGarret in the head or else I activate the explosives._

The pit grew to a vortex that overwhelmed him with nausea. All eyes on the bridge stared with dumbfounded attention at either the monitor or Fox himself. He swallowed, his fur suddenly moist with cold sweat. He would never shoot any allied soldier and even if he could he would never give in to the games of a terrorist. Yet his team represented everything he lived for. The sick game weighed on him like a tangible pressure, rendering him lightheaded.

"McCloud…"

Fox realized that the admiral whispered his name and met his eyes with a steely gaze. He could not discern whether it was a challenge or simply stern anticipation of a response. The fact that McGarret's palm was raised to his side to halt his security force proved his trust.

"Screw you," Fox finally said to the screen. He steadied his shaky voice. "You're bluffing. You couldn't have slipped by. Screw you."

Dianus' response nearly stopped Fox's heart in the instant it happened.

The Great Fox's chassis erupted in flame, a hellish vein that ran the length of the hull. Before Fox could even gasp, the entire ship exploded. The flames vanished immediately in the vacuum of space but debris and mangled pieces of his home and team careened into the cold reaches of space. Fox's knees buckled and he fell to the ground, unable to blink or make a sound. He became distant, unaware of the chaos that had taken over the bridge.

"Status report!"

"Launch rescue shuttles"

"Cameras! Get the goddamn cameras up!"

"Scanning for life signs. Scanning…"

"Imaging still receiving mass."

The cacophony began dying down as another sound reverberated over them; not louder, but terrifying in its tone. As Fox became aware of it, he realized that it was the first time they were hearing Dianus' voice. Laughing…a slow, throaty, deeply amused cackle as one would do under her breath in polite company. On the bridge, however, it echoed in the skulls of any who heard it. The main screen flickered, glitched, and returned to the true video feed from the starboard camera. The Great Fox drifted in undisturbed peace.

"Fake," McGarret uttered with a breath of relief.

_Look at Lylat's hero, brought to his knees from a well-played feint of fear and simple editing. I warn you, Admiral, there will be no warnings or illusions from now on. This demonstration is, perhaps, an omen of things to come if Venom is not left in peace. And my poor Fox. As I told Mr. Hare, you cannot protect everyone, especially those separated from the herd. Leave now, all of you, or Venom will swallow you and all you hold dear._

The screen shut down and returned a moment later with its usual technological blocks of ship vital crew members seemed unsure of what to do and slowly returned to their duties with half-glances back at the admiral. With a few swallows to calm his stomach, Fox rose; he held no false pride or embarrassment for his momentary collapse. Let he who would not falter at the sight of his destroyed home and surrogate family be the first to judge.

"Hold on to it, McCloud," McGarret said. He still stared at the monitor as if Dianus hadn't vanished. "Hold on to the anger. It reminds us of why we need to fight and sacrifice to kill demons like her."

"Yes, sir."

"As you were, people! I want all stations on alert until further ordered!" McGarret half-turned to Fox and spoke directly to him. The mercenary could see that he had been disturbed by the messages but kept his demeanor like a true officer. "Her last statement seemed odd."

"Which one?"

"She said you couldn't protect everyone; something about separated from the herd."

Fox thought for a moment and shrugged. "It's already clear she wants to make those I care about suffer but my team's all on the Great Fox, well within the Vanguard's protection. Who else do I—" His poor heart took another pounding upon the realization. "Where's Gage?"

"He requested a leave day." McGarret's face turned to stone and he inhaled deeply. "Fairington. We're in geosynchronous orbit over it. Ensign! I want two dropships of marines with Bulldog air cover sent to Fairington immediately! Relay officer, send coordinates of the landing pad to Victor Two-Three and Victor Eight-Six. Notify Macbeth regional air command of our intentions. McCloud, get there. Now."

Fox had already sprinted from the bridge.

* * *

-

_White Flame Grille, downtown Fairington  
1913 hours_

-

"You ran away when you were ten?"

Fara nodded. The candle on their table had burned halfway down and lazily illuminated their crumb-laden plates. The restaurant had filled up since she and Gage sat down; waiters hurried from table to table, the aroma of different meals wafted together in the air, and the low drone of muffled conversations helped Fara feel a little safer. "I wanted to get away from my parents. They're not the type of people who should have kids. I'm sure if I went to the police or something I could've been taken away from them but I wanted to be on my own. If there's one silver lining to living with horrible parents it's that they made me tough. I fit in well on the streets. I could rob a guy blind without him ever knowing I was there. I didn't like it, though; I wanted more. The next logical step was to charge people for my skill as a thief. I wouldn't do assassinations and I wouldn't do anything to someone who didn't have it coming. I researched my marks thoroughly."

"And so a mercenary was born."

"Yeah, fifteen years old. Got my pilot's license a bit after that. I learned that good mercenaries could earn themselves some glory with the right tools. Don't tell Fox, but Starfox was kind of my role model back during the war. I even toyed with sending an application to join. But one thing led to another and…my parents came back into the picture." Fara took a sip from the coffee she had ordered after dinner. "I don't want to talk about that. Let's just say I was off my game which is why the pirates finally got the better of me. I know you and the admiral were hoping for some grand revelation but that's all I have; I was on the pirates' bad side for working in their territory, we fought on and off, they finally captured me, then you two knights in shining armor rescued me."

Gage nodded. For the past fifteen minutes he had been leaning forward on his elbows, a straw stuck in his muzzle with the other end submerged in a tall glass of chocolate milk. The waiter and Fara both gave him the same cockeyed look when he ordered it though he had grown used to such reactions. "I figured as much."

"What? Then why this big deal with getting to know what I know?"

"The admiral wants to know if you're a threat. I just wanted to know more about you." Gage shifted in his chair and hesitated. He had no idea he had forgotten so much about how to talk to women. "All that stuff I said about me hating mercenaries is true. But when we talked the other night and I told you about myself a bit I kind of…well, I kind of liked it. I was hoping that you weren't like the typical mercenary. So I told the admiral I'd interrogate you a bit. He'd get his information and I'd get to find out more about you."

Fara grinned. "That's sweet in a creepy kind of way. Every girl loves to be interrogated on a first date. Did I do okay?"

"I'm not disappointed."

"You know what you said earlier about guys like you not being able to have relationships? I used to think that too being a wandering thief for hire. But we can, I think, people like you and me. We can find love. We just have to work harder at it than normal people." She tentatively shrugged. "We just have to work harder. But it's worth it if you find the right person."

"Well, then here's to finding the right person." Gage raised his milk glass. "May your man be better company than your parents."

"And may your woman be half as crazy as you are. I guess she'd have to be to want to be your woman."

The mug and glass clinked together in a sweet note that rose above the droning. But Fara's mug remained above the table. Coffee streamed down the sides as the mug quaked in her hand. Gage looked up and saw a shadow of shocked horror cloaking her eyes as if she had been gutshot or was about to be. Judging from her gaze, Gage didn't need to be told that she was following someone who had walked in behind him. He gently took her hand and lowered the mug to the table.

"Don't stare," he ordered. Fara tore her eyes away but her expression remained. "Who is it?"

She swallowed and, after a few blinks, seemed to recover herself. "He's uh…um, he's a…he's a killer. A monster."

"I'm gonna need more than that."

"His name's Laroque. He's an assassin. The pirates hired him sometimes for hard jobs but that was awhile ago. He's in a whole other league now. He's never failed a job or missed a mark."

"Why did the pirates stop using him?"

Fara hesitated. "They were afraid of him."

_Can't get one goddamn day's peace. _"Where is he now?"

"The waiter just seated him in the back corner. He's wearing a double-breasted suit and violet tie."

"I see him." Gage didn't have to turn around. From his angle, the plate glass front window caught the man's reflection. Sure enough, a tiger of ochre color and black stripes with the mentioned suit sat near the back. Cool, relaxed, and a very serious face. "I don't suppose there's a possibility he popped in for a slice of pie."

"Do you want to take that chance? We have to get out of here. He's a murderer; he'll kill everyone in here without a second thought if they're in the way."

The fox's mind raced, weighing possibilities and options. It was too much of a coincidence for this assassin – one who dealt with the same pirates attacking the Vanguard – to waltz into the restaurant. But could he trust Fara? Was this man really who she said he was? And if he was, could Gage take him down? Finally, he settled on a plan. "Look near the kitchen door. I saw a fire alarm on the wall when we walked in. See it?"

"Yeah."

"Walk over there nice and calm and pull it. Try not to let anyone see you do it."

"Wait, why?"

"Just go."

Fara didn't move immediately, as if standing would gain the attention of a vicious animal. She rose slowly and headed to the rear of the restaurant. Gage kept on eye on the window; Laroque hadn't so much as glanced up from his menu. With a peek over her shoulder, Fara stopped near the fire alarm. She waited. She wasn't stupid, Gage knew; she suspected that once she pulled it only they or the tiger would walk outside alive. However, Gage's trust was repaid in kind. She met his eyes once more, sidled up against the alarm, and pulled it with a smooth gesture.

The alarm tone blared from the ceiling and red lights flashed from each corner. The patrons seemed startled and confused at first but when the host shouted the magic word – "Fire!" – they all hopped into action. The waiters stood by the door to ensure the customers filed out safely. Without smoke or flames a stampede was averted; however, the rush was not unwarranted. Within a minute, a second alarm sounded, indicating that the fire suppression system would kick in momentarily: Halon 1813 gas. Gage's suspicions had been right. While old-fashioned water sprinklers were required by law for large stores and public places, businesses that could be evacuated in thirty seconds or less qualified for the same Halon systems used in labs and research complexes. While water would ruin the wood, carpets, and most other parts of the restaurant, Halon 1813 gas suppressed fire and dissipated after ten minutes or so with little to no residue. The downside that made it illegal in more crowded areas was its lethality. It soaked up oxygen, thus suppressing fire but unfortunately suppressing any life forms in the area as well.

"Let's see how good you are," Gage muttered. He had not left his seat. He took a few deep breaths to slow his heart rate and stood. Laroque's deadpan expression had not changed, not even the cold eyes. He closed his menu with mild annoyance, ran his finger along the crease, and placed it gently on the table. He rose as well and buttoned the top button of his suit. The two men faced each other. With one last tone, the Halon kicked in. White translucent gas spewed from overhead nozzles and billowed throughout the room in a matter of seconds. Gage stopped breathing. The tiger's chest stopped moving.

"Gage!" Fara stumbled through the mist, coughing and struggling for breath. Laroque saw his chance. In a blink, his right hand whipped around from his back with a compact pistol in his grip. Gage grabbed the vixen's arm, threw her to the ground, and heaved a table over with his shoulder. Two lasers splintered the thick wood but Laroque wasn't stupid; he saved his ammo rather than shoot an object his low-energy lasers couldn't penetrate.

Gage pointed to the door and gave Fara a motivational smack on the rump. She knew she faced either suffocation or Laroque and, shaking with fear, bolted for the door. The assassin did not fire, as Gage hoped and suspected he wouldn't; a professional indeed, eyes, ammo, and concentration solely for his target. Why would anyone go through such trouble to kill an inconsequential mercenary with no valuable intel? It seemed obvious to Gage that he was the target, whether for his military role or his friendship with Fox, as Peppy had been.

_Thirty seconds. _Laroque was waiting him out; the assassin seemed confident he could hold his breath longer. Gage didn't want to take the chance. He brought his elbow down hard on one of the lopsided table's legs and gave it a hard pull to break it free. Judging from the first two shots, he knew where Laroque was likely to aim.

_One minute, _Gage estimated. He hopped to his feet and threw the leg towards Laroque with a snap of his wrist. It connected with the tiger's shoulder and made him stumble back a step. It would have to be enough; Gage vaulted over the table and charged him. Before he could close in far enough Laroque recovered, aimed, and fired. Having the benefit of anticipation, Gage ducked the laser destined for his head and leaped forward the last couple yards. To the fox's surprise, Laroque did not fall back under the brunt of the tackle but instead met it with full force. While they pushed each other away with one hand, their other hands fought over the pistol. Gage managed to slide his thumb into the trigger guard; he pushed until the gun pointed to the ceiling and rapidly pulled the trigger until it clicked on empty. He could take this clown in a fight, he knew.

Just as he finished the self-congratulatory thought, Laroque drove his knee into his opponent's stomach and kicked him away with enough force to send him to the ground. He tossed the empty pistol away and pulled on his suit jacket to straighten the rumpled cloth. Gage leaped up and stepped forward again to meet him. At least two minutes had passed without breath and neither man showed a sign of faltering. Gage noticed his fault; he had approached the assassin as we would any other mercenary but Laroque did not fight in scrappy, street-brawling fashion. From the way he stood with one shoulder back and his hands flat and relaxed by his waist his martial arts prowess was military in nature and very sophisticated. Sure enough, Gage's next flurry of punches as well as a quick spinning side kick that usually caught people off guard were all blocked. Laroque found no better luck in his assault. He jabbed twice then kicked high and spun to deliver two alternating crescent kicks. Gage felt a surge that helped him cope with the oxygen loss for the moment; he hadn't met an opponent like this for a long time and though his life was in danger he couldn't help but feel that old thrill of truly demanding combat. He had grown accustomed to night assaults and sneaking missions without the satisfaction of a real fight; this man's skill made Gage want to kill him even more. They circled each other, attempting strikes when opportunities seemed to present themselves.

_Three minutes._

Tightness had started to seize Gage's chest. He had to end the fight. Years of training in underwater demolitions and reconnaissance gave him a record of being able to hold his breath for just over five minutes but that was in the absence of fighting and intense strain. The Halon system shut down but the gas would remain present for a while still. Gage was encouraged upon catching a clear glimpse of Laroque's face through the fog. Intensity still gripped his features but his eyes shallowly hid a hint of fear. Like Gage, Laroque had grown accustomed to something but something more than mere boredom: fear. His targets knew and feared his name and wept as if hell itself had come upon them when he showed up to kill them. This fox was different. He stood tall and fought with unrivaled fervor. Though both men had been shaken from their routines in this fight, only Gage took the challenge to heart. Laroque tasted doubt; Gage could see it in his eyes.

He took advantage of his rival's momentary worry; it was the last opening he would have before his breath would give out.

Gage hopped forward and struck with a series of punches he knew would be blocked – he counted on it. Another crescent kick brought the tiger's arms up in an X to block, obscuring his vision for one crucial second. Gage slid his hand across a nearby table, palmed a fork, and poked the prongs between his first and middle finger. Some of the confidence had returned to Laroques face in the form of an amused grin but Gage's next strike erased it for the last time. Laroque saw the punch coming a mile away and blocked easily…earning him a spurt of blood and a silver fork buried in his hand. He recoiled in shock and tried to pull the utensil free of his palm. His rival never gave him the chance; he grabbed the tiger by the neck, lifted him for a moment, and slammed his back onto the floor. Gage held the prostrate man around the neck with one hand and delivered a hard blow to the gut with his other elbow. All Laroque's remaining air escaped through his mouth in one long gasp. He kicked and flailed as the fear returned to his eyes and overwhelmed them. Though he would die in under a minute, Gage felt a sudden wave of anger overtake him. He remembered why this man had been sent and what happened to Peppy, to Fox, what still might happen to others. With a low growl escaping his throat, he yanked the fork from the assassin's hand and drove it straight down into his neck until the prongs were embedded in bone. The struggling stopped.

"Gage!"

Gage stood and tried to turn but dizziness struck him like a wrecking ball. He fell to his knees and gasped out of reflex, cursing himself as he did so. Too long inside, too careless! He tried to breathe but nothing was there. He hacked and coughed and all went dark. Two hands slipped under his arms and dragged him away. Soon the still, dead air was replaced by the cacophony and familiar noise of emergency crews. Sirens, murmuring crowds, shouting, dramatic EMTs and police. He opened his eyes; past the blurry haze he could make out two people dragging him, each holding one arm: Fox and Fara. They had dared the gas and the killer to find him.

"An ambulance is here, Gage." This time it was Fox's voice. "God, I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault." Gage heard himself speak but the world still felt distant. "I'm fine. Just need to breathe a bit."

"Let a doctor look at you," Fara said, her voice quivering from either fear, concern, or both. "Please, for me."

The captain groaned. Doctors again. "Fine." He reached out and took her wrist before one of the EMTs could brush her away. "This went pretty well for a first date, huh?"

A small grin broke through her deathly expression and Gage joined her. As the EMTs took over, he caught a last glimpse of Fox as he became clearer through his blurry but improving vision. He wished he could tell Fox that it wasn't his fault but something else was there written into his face, something that chilled Gage's blood and reminded him of Laroque's dying expression.

Pure fear.

* * *

"Admiral McGarret, sir."

The old wolf looked up. He had been lost in thought, grappling with choice after choice and trying to put some kind of sense to this Dianus. The news of Gage's well-being did little to lift his spirits; he knew this would not be the last fight. The bridge was quiet; each crew member mulled about his task with subdued, solemn urgency. A young feline ensign had approached the admiral's chair and saluted. McGarret halfheartedly returned the salute.

"Sir, you asked to be apprised of any anomalies in sector scans. Scan control has just informed me that one unidentified craft has slipped past Sector Z space and is moving in a steady pace around Venom. It has no immediately recognizable scan records and appears to have no destination. It's simply coasting around just inside our scan range."

"It's letting us know it's there," McGarret muttered. "It's showing itself just to taunt us. Is it a pirate vessel?"

The ensign cleared his throat. "Um, no, sir." He produced a single sheet of paper from the stack he held and handed it to McGarret. The admiral straightened in his chair. His eyes slowly widened.

"Has each member of Starfox been accounted for?"

"Yes, sir. Ships as well."

McGarret's shaking hand dropped the paper as he stood bolt upright and hurried from the bridge. The paper fluttered to the ground. It came to rest facing up, showing lines of coordinates, conditions, and parameters. One side of the paper held the digital imaging of the ship. Plain as day, facing forward as if glaring at the viewer itself, was a lone Arwing.

_**-Chapter 7 coming soon!-**_


	10. A Ghost of Christmas Past

Author's Note: I wanted to do a little Christmas "special" a while ago when it was still, you know, Christmas but I wanted to get the last chapter done first to set a context for Gage's love life or lack thereof. So please enjoy this short, slightly belated Christmas entry from Gage's past. Also to note, I do realize that obviously an Earth holiday like Christmas would not normally be present in Lylat so just think of this as a fun little diversion. Also, thanks to JV for the inspiration to do something around the holidays. -Foxmerc

-

A Ghost of Christmas Past  
_Five years ago_

_-  
_

An old telephone sat on a wooden end table beside the right armrest of a ratty couch. The two items seemed to fit together; old relics of a poor village. Gage stared at it for a moment, then a moment more. Moments dragged into minutes until he finally stepped over to the phone. He picked up the handset and placed it to his ear. Initially it felt strange, not having a viewscreen to talk to, though perhaps for this call that was for the best. With hesitant fingers he punched a long number into the keypad.

_"Operator."_

"Interplanetary, please. Corneria."

_"Your entered number shows location code two-one-six, correct?"_

"Yes."

_"Have a nice holiday."_

Gage grimaced at the irony. A few seconds passed before a tone sounded in the earpiece and repeated. With each ring, Gage's chest tightened a bit. He was just about to hang up, call the whole thing off, when the tone was interrupted by a click, then another click of a viewscreen integrating with a telephone. All she would see was a blank screen with the words, "telephone signal" on it. Yes…it was for the best.

_"Hello?"_

Gage swallowed. "Marlene?"

A pause of silence and a whispered return. "Gage?"

"Marlene. I'm sorry…"

"Why are you calling me, Gage?"

Why am I calling her? "It's Christmas Eve. I wanted to call earlier but I've been really busy. I just wanted to say…I wanted to…wish you a merry Christmas. You're probably busy, I just—"

A sigh; a mix of exasperation and repressed sorrow. "We're done, Gage. We broke up two months ago. It's time to move on."

"I want to talk about it. I know what you said and you were right. I'm hard to live with sometimes. I'm a little preoccupied sometimes. But we can work on it, I can—"

"You weren't hard to live with, Gage, you were hard to live without. I understood that I would be a military girlfriend when we met but I had no idea that you were already married to your job. You're gone for days, weeks at a time. You could never talk about what you do. When you were gone I knew that you may never return. And when we were together, you woke up shaking in the middle of the night and I had no idea how to comfort you and tell you that I'm there. I couldn't do that, Gage. I just couldn't do it."

Gage sensed a slight quivering in her voice and immediately felt regret for calling. "Please, Leeney, I don't want to make you upset. Things can be better. I don't want to throw away what we have because we have something special."

No sound from the other end. Gage wondered if she had hung up but before long her voice rose again. Not heated or upset, but resigned. "You deserve someone special, Gage. You really do. But until you take a look at your life and set your priorities, you won't find her. You can't do what you do and expect to come home to a wife and kids; you're not that selfish."

A rumble shook the walls around Gage and he grimaced. As he feared, the phone picked it up.

"What was that noise? Oh my God, you're out there right now, aren't you, risking your life?"

"It's not what you think. I'm in someone's house, I have people all around me, there's just a little noise." Gage swung his arm around empty air, forgetting there was no visual. "It's Christmas, where else would I be?" Silence. He couldn't tell whether she believed him.

"Gage," Marlene said after another pause, "I'm not the one for you. I'm sorry. And until you decide which one is more important, your job or your relationships, I don't think you'll ever find someone. I truly hope you're with people as you said. No one should be alone on Christmas." Silence. "Please don't call me again."

"Leeney…"

"Goodbye, Gage." A click: disconnected.

Gage spoke to empty air. "Goodbye, Marlene."

He placed the receiver down and looked around the dim house, moonlight streaming through the boarded windows and illuminating the lingering dust. It also illuminated seven dead soldiers and the streaks of tacky blood that painted the floor through their torn and charred uniforms. Gage had just finished cleaning his knife and reloading his silenced pistol when he noticed the phone and wondered, fatefully, whether it still worked. No one had lived in the village for months since Venomian remnant forces commandeered it after the war officially ended.

"See?" Gage said glumly to empty air. "I'm with people. I'm at someone's house." He picked up the assault rifle he laid on the couch beside a dead sitting soldier and looked him in the cold, lifeless eyes. "We're not alone on Christmas, are we?"

Gage hurried to the doorway and looked outside. He concentrated as hard as he could on the bombing run that had begun on the base a couple miles away, down in the valley beneath the village. He concentrated as hard as he could; if he kept his mind focused, perhaps he could ward off the tears he feared were coming. There was nothing to shed tears like a child about. He knew what his job meant and he knew how difficult normal life could be. Marlene made her choice, Gage made his. There was now time for this anyway, not with work to be done. He pulled his black mask back over his muzzle and slipped out the door, toward the next checkpoint to clear.

"Merry Christmas."

There was nothing to shed tears about…but, as he disappeared into the hostile night, Gage felt them anyway.


	11. Between Money and Mirrors

[Author's Note: Some rather radical transitional weeks have kept me away from writing but I'm back now. Expect regular updates. Due to the passage of time and the fact that this chapter continues some revelations from the last chapter, it might be a good idea to re-read a chapter or two back, excluding the interludes. So, good to be back, and I hope you all enjoy! -Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 7  
Between Money and Mirrors  
_0917 hours  
LDC Vanguard living quarters 3C_

-

Gage rapped his knuckle against the metal living quarters' door and tapped the access button beside it. After the door slid open he was greeted by a shrill scream that made him stumble back and grab the doorframe for support. He caught a glimpse of a female form wrapping a towel around herself and cowering near the sink on the right wall of the small room.

"Don't you knock?!" Krystal spat, her eyes ablaze.

Gage clapped his head with his palm to clear away the stunning effects of the scream. "I did knock."

"You know what I mean! Knock then wait for a response!" She secured the towel with a knot above her breasts. "Get a good look, did you?"

"No, I was busy trying to keep my eardrums from exploding. What were you doing anyway? The showers are down the corridor."

Krystal pointed to a cluster of canisters sitting on the edge of the sink. "If you must know, I was reapplying my fur dye. At least, as much as could be salvaged from my luggage. You sure you didn't see anything?"

"Trust me, God wouldn't grant that big a wish so soon." Gage closed the door and stepped over to the sink. Sure enough, the canisters were semi-full with a milky blue liquid. "What color are you really anyway? I suspected that 'biohazard blue' wasn't your natural color."

With a huff, Krystal frowned and scrunched her nose. "That color on this body makes me eighteen million credits a year net. I doubt your salary could even buy the dye itself."

"No one becomes a soldier for the money. Is that what it's all about for you? Money?"

"Oh, this is fantastic. First you try for your own personal peep show and now I get the 'money can't buy me love' speech."

Gage shrugged. "I didn't say that. For some people it's all about the money and there's nothing wrong with that as long as they're honest about it. What about you?"

The blue canine stared at him for a few moments before plopping down on the bed and crossing her bare legs. "What do you want anyway?"

"This is the room they gave you?" He leaned against the wall by the sink, arms folded, and crossed his own ankle over the other. "It's no bigger than mine."

"I'll sign up for the LDC Vanguard platinum membership next time I'm near the concierge's desk. This is all they had vacant and I took it, okay? What are you doing here?"

Gage met her fiery eyes and clicked his teeth in thought a few times. "Did I do something wrong? I know I walked in on you, but—"

"It's nothing, okay?" She scoffed, shook her head, and rolled her eyes all at once. "It's stupid."

"What?"

With increasing agitation, Krystal stood and walked to the locker on the wall opposite Gage. "It's stupid," she repeated as she plucked a bathrobe from a hangar and slipped it on over the towel. Before Gage could have a chance to wonder why the powers that be continued to tease him, the towel fell from under the bathrobe and encircled her ankles. "I just…well, I thought that maybe you had a thing for me."

Still facing away from Gage, Krystal did not see the fox's bulging eyes and gaping muzzle. She cinched the belt around the closed robe, kicked the towel away, and turned toward him. "It's just that, like, every man I ever met just sees me from the neck down. You're the first guy who, like, talked to me like a real person and didn't try to stick his hand down my…why the hell are you gawking like a bloody lobotomy patient? What are you, fifteen? Did you hear a word I said?"

Gage snapped his jaw shut and remembered to breathe. "What? Yeah, uh…real person…stick my hand down your…I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

To his surprise, Krystal frowned for a moment then smiled a bit. She hopped onto the bed and sat with her legs resting to her side. "I think you heard me. You may want me like any normal man would but you also treat me like a person. I could lie her naked with my hands cuffed to the headboard and you wouldn't even think about touching me. That's special. I can't remember the last man I felt that comfortable around."

Gage pulled at his collar and took a few deep breaths. "Could we please stop talking about your body and the many ways it could be presented? It's hot enough in this uniform."

"Admit it. You heard me."

"Yeah, I heard you. I'm trained to hear a dozen conversations at once. Yes, I respect you as more than a sex symbol. So why does that make you snippy at me?"

"Well…" Krystal gnawed on her lower lip for nearly a full minute, trying to find the right words. "That night you told your war story to me and that Fara woman I knew you were talking to me because you wanted to, not because you wanted anything in return. No autograph, no picture, no sultry pose, no money. I don't get that a lot. I don't really have anyone I would call a close friend. Billions of fans, no friends. Just acquaintances, contacts, agents, and phonies. I thought we, like…had a connection there." Suddenly, she snatched her pillow and threw it at Gage; the fox caught it out of reflex. "And then you go on a date yesterday with that weirdo, you big jerk! Why not me?"

Gage blinked then laughed when the surprise subsided. He tossed the pillow gently back to her. "All this because I went out with Fara. First of all, half of it was a fact-finding mission. Secondly, you do realize that you might have been killed if you went, right?"

"But why her and not me? What does she have that I don't?"

"Non-toxic fur, for starters."

Krystal's eyes widened, she blinked, then burst into tears. She wailed and buried her face in her hands. Gage could only stare, dazed, as she fell to her side and curled up into a ball, her body shuddering with each sob.

"It was a joke!" Gage said. He grabbed one of the dye canisters and held it up. "See? Environmentally safe, approved for bodily use. I knew that, I saw it earlier."

"You think I'm a joooooooke!" She held out the last syllable with a wail and scrunched herself together tighter.

"No I don't." Gage sat on the bed beside her fetal form and hovered his hand uncertainly above her before patting her side. "Listen, I understand what you're saying. The truth is I do find you pleasant to be with and I find Fara pleasant to be with also. But why not just talk to me or sit with me at a meal or just come see me or something? I mean…I don't want to jump to conclusions, but are you sure you aren't trying a little hard?"

Krystal sniffled. "Huh?"

"Well right after biting my head off about walking in on you, you change right in front of me with just a robe between us. Then you sit on the bed like that. Are you sure you weren't trying to seduce me a little?"

The sobbing stopped. Krystal raised her head and looked up at Gage with the mesmerized innocence of self-discovery…before collapsing in a fresh round of wails and tears. "Ohmigod, you're right! I'm a tramp!"

"Oh, dear God." Gage rolled his eyes. He stood, grabbed her left arm with enough force to turn her tears to a gasp of surprise, and pulled her to her feet beside him. He clutched her shoulders and stared her in the eye, his nose mere centimeters from hers. All Krystal could do was attempt to pull away weakly and gape back at him in fear. "Listen to me. I understand loneliness. But you're a spoiled snob who thinks her body and whining can get her everything. You get jealous over who I go to an innocent little dinner with. Well, too bad. I don't go around looking for sex or relationships. I like spending my time with decent people. I told my war story to you and Fara because I think you're both decent people. If you dropped the snob bit I've had to put up with ever since I jumped off that damn ship with you then you'd start attracting people. And they'd be attracted to you, Kristine Sherwood, not Krystal. That's who I like being with." He touched under her muzzle with his finger and gently raised her head, which had drooped as he spoke, till their eyes met. "But having a kick-ass body certainly doesn't hurt."

The beginnings of a hesitant smile pulled at the side of Krystal's muzzle. Gage's own smile comforted her. She sniffed again and wiped her red eyes. "No one ever talked to me like that before."

"Of course not. They'd risk whatever they were using you for. Only a friend can be truly honest with you when it's good for you. At a base's shooting range a few years back, I once told a soldier in my battalion that he held a rifle like a five year old girl holds a doll. I wanted to help him shoot right. He learned from my honesty. And I learned something, too."

"What?"

"I learned to check the rank on a man's sleeve before being honest with him."

The little smile grew wider on Krystal's muzzle. She sighed, her face a mix of embarrassment and relief. "So you like, still want to be my friend?"

"Wouldn't want it any other way." Gage gave her a clap on the arm and started for the door. "I better get out of here before a sappy after-school special breaks out."

"Wait a minute. Why did you come here in the first place?"

He stopped short. Somehow he had managed to forget the reason why he had come to see her the entire time he had been there. However, when he turned and saw her again in the flowing robe he remembered how easy it had been to become sidetracked. "Right. Admiral McGarret was going to send a messenger but I wanted to tell you myself in case you had any questions. Because of recent threats and disturbing scans, the local space has been deemed highly dangerous. The Vanguard is in lockdown. Only mission teams go in and out. I'm afraid that counts for you, too. I know your transport back to Corneria was supposed to get here tomorrow but it's been cancelled. You're with us until the lockdown is lifted. Could be a day or a month."

Gage braced himself for a tantrum or curse but received only silence. Krystal slowly sat on the bed, her hands clasped before her and her eyes wide and unfocused with subdued anxiety. The captain recognized the look; he had seen it on refugees, hostages, civilians in battle zones…when worries over convenience and normalcy were replaced with fears for one's own life.

"Are we really in that much danger?" she asked in a half-whisper.

"I don't know. I can't say much, but as of now the pirates are either very smart or completely full of shit. But you're aboard the most powerful starship in the galaxy with a damn fine man at the helm, one of the best flight units covering her airspace, and StarFox right outside. And if the bastards ever get their boots on the ground, they have me to deal with."

Krystal nodded, her face unchanged.

"I have to go to a briefing or else I'd talk some more. Wish me luck; Falco's gonna be there." He rolled his eyes.

"What's the matter with that? He seems like a neat guy."

"He may be neat at a bar but he's the last person I'd want to go into combat with. Unprofessional, sloppy, overly reckless. I'm not a stickler for rules but I have the skill to back up my risks and they're always calculated risks. We tolerate each other as mutual friends of Fox's; I don't think he likes me much either. But then, he doesn't like any military types."

"Well, you two play nice." Krystal forced a little smile. "I'll be fine."

Gage activated the door and took one step out. "Remember I asked if you do what you do only for the money? Keep your mind on that. Find an answer and find out if it's what you really want. Danger can be good on the mind; it can remind us that we only have one life to live."

The door slid shut behind him.

* * *

"Have a seat, gentlemen."

Fox, Gage, and Falco took three adjacent chairs in the front row of the large, empty briefing room nearest to the bridge. Admiral McGarret stood at the podium and tossed his hat onto it. He ran his fingers over the fur on his gray lupine head and cleared his throat. Sleep had apparently still been difficult to obtain in the past few nights.

"Good morning," he continued. "As good as it can be I suppose. Captain Birse, Mister McCloud, I'm seeing you two more than I like to these days. I'm sure you understand that our situation requires my soldiers to go above and beyond normal duty, especially soldiers of your caliber. However, if you feel that you're overworked to the point where you are unfit for duty, let me know immediately."

No response.

"Good." He fiddled with a few buttons on the podium. "Firstly, let me mention that I've put in a request to Cornerian Special Forces Command for the requisition of the rest of Dagger team. I want more ground expertise on this ship as well as support for you, Captain Birse, given the amount of work you're doing for me. Your performance thus far has been above and beyond any soldier I've ever worked with but you can only take so much. This situation has a distinct possibility of heating up and I'll feel much more confident with a full contingent of Dagger operators. I wanted to consult with you first, Captain Birse, but time was of the essence. I trust you have no objections."

"No, sir."

The admiral nodded. "Are you feeling recovered from your encounter in Fairington?"

"Yes, sir. Wouldn't want leave to be too relaxing. After all, it's been awhile since I worked silverware into my weapon loadout."

"I can do without the quips, Captain."

"Sorry, sir."

McGarret punched a final button and a holographic image appeared behind him: a three-dimensional render of the Arwing scan obtained the previous day. "As you all know, this Arwing was discovered during a scan of Venom airspace. Dianus is taunting us with it. She wants us to know it's there. Despite the destruction of the chip inside McCloud's arm and the apparent desolation of the Papetoon location on Titania, she has achieved at least one prototype. It can fly obviously but whether it's fully functional or not, we don't know. What we do know is that Dianus is now a much larger potential threat not only to us but to all of Lylat. I have salvage teams working around the clock inside Papetoon, digging up anything they can find."

After another flurry of button clicks, the floating image changed to something else familiar to Fox and Falco.

"This is Venomian Defense Satellite eight-eight-two-twelve, codenamed Bolse. This large station and the fleet mustering point Area Six were Venom's two main defensive strongholds during the war. Starfox somewhat brazenly opted to confront the fleet at Area Six head-on, admittedly to impressive effect. In addition to opening that route to Venom, Starfox also drew the mercenary group Starwolf away from Bolse which weakened its air defense. Allied starships and marines were able to capture the station mostly intact and dismantle its weapon systems. Bolse is still floating there in orbit, a derelict space station. All valuable internal systems have been salvaged and the LDC didn't see a reason to destroy or convert the rest. However, someone else appears to have taken an interest."

The Bolse station disappeared after another couple clicks. Instead of a holograph, the massive viewscreen behind the holo-projector flickered to life with side-by-side mugshots from a Zoness maximum security prison. One was a male tiger, possibly mid-twenties, with a deep scar running from his forehead, over his nose, and disappearing under his muzzle. The other shot showed a female who seemed surprisingly similar in both fur detail and facial features, sans the scar. Rather than the disfigurement, her face exuded a beauty tainted by the menacing intensity in her eyes.

"Meet the mutual leaders of mercenary group Hellion," McGarret continued. "Real names unknown, place of birth unknown. All we know of their history is that they're identical twins. They call themselves Ares and Eris, him and her respectively. The military used to think of them as nothing more than lunatics with a penchant for drama, what with the names. But over the years they've proven to be rather effective in the pirate underworld. Arms smuggling, piracy, murder, theft, kidnapping…and all for a reasonable price. They're the kind of psychopaths who really enjoy their work. Captain Birse, I believe Dagger and Hellion have a bit of a history, correct?"

Gage cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "Yes, sir. A hostage situation a few years back claimed the life of a Dagger operative under my command. These two animals and their crew of thugs were directly gunning for us. They like to try and prove that anarchy and street rules triumph over disciplined military training. They target police, military, private security, anyone who will give them a fight. Dagger happens to be their favorite."

"Well, apparently they've been attracted by the presence of the Vanguard. Intel believes they're working for Dianus at the moment. Scans spotted their heavy-class cruiser, the Hellraiser, docked at Bolse for intermittent periods of time. I don't know what Dianus wants with a beaten old satellite defense station but the pairing of her and these nutjobs cannot be allowed." McGarret paused a moment. "That mission did not end well did it, Captain?"

A heavy silence fell over the briefing room. Fox and Falco turned their heads to see Gage glaring at the mugshot of Ares with an intensity they had seldom seen. The tiger's static picture seemed to mock him, the eyes reserved only for him.

"No, sir," the captain finally uttered. "They killed fourteen hostages. My second in command was caught in the explosion. It was their plan all along, to kill innocents and give Dagger a black eye. We failed to bring them in or take them down. It remains the only total mission failure during my entire time as Dagger commander."

"Given the elaborate trap outlined in the brief I read, do you feel the mission could have been accomplished?"

"I don't believe in impossible missions, sir."

McGarret nodded. He could see the fire growing behind Gage's eyes and did not want it interfering with the mission. Without another word on the subject, he continued. "I wanted to send Sigil team in to recon Bolse and give you a rest but I need them for something that requires more manpower. Thermal scans show minimal presence in Bolse even when the Hellraiser is docked so all I need from you is recon. Your mission is to infiltrate the station and ascertain a threat assessment; if Bolse is being repaired, we need to know. Avoid contact with Hellion and any pirates Dianus may have loaned them." McGarret looked up from the podium and met Gage's eyes. "Captain Birse, I want it made explicitly clear that Ares and Eris are targets of opportunity. Take them down if you have the chance but do not deviate from your mission. Is that clear?"

"Crystal, sir." The fox's eyes still grappled with Ares.

"Good. Falco Lombardi will be your pilot for this mission. His skill should be adequate for delivering you undetected and he is at least somewhat proficient in small arms combat."

Gage and Falco both sat bolt upright and blurted out speech that ran into each other.

"You want to put my life in the hands of that reckless-"

"-babysit this tightass spook on some –"

"-rather impress the local whores than keep his mind on the-"

"—fly with Starfox, I ain't your grunt delivery service-"

"-doesn't care as long as there's a paycheck at the-"

"Enough!" McGarret snapped, silencing the two. The whole time, Fox had just sat rolling his eyes. "I have shit being dealt my way from every organization imaginable, from the LDC's public relations weasels to Kristine Sherwood's producers, not to mention the psychotic new queen of Venom. I do not need tension amongst my best soldiers. McCloud, is Starfox still under contract with the Vanguard or is it not?

"It is, Admiral."

"Then this is how it is whether you two like it or not. Bulldog unit is running recon around Sector Z or I'd send them. McCloud and Toad are needed for another assignment and Hare has been sent back to Corneria to see his family. As much as I hate to admit it, despite his unsavory presence, Lombardi is better than any pilot I have left right now. So I don't care whether you two are bosom buddies or not; suck it up and get this mission completed, got it?"

The two shot each other sideways glances and each sat back down and answered in turn.

"Yeah, fine."

"Yes, sir."

"Good." With another round of keystrokes, the Hellion twins disappeared and were replaced by another holo-projection, this time of Venom. A small red dot pulsed in the southwestern hemisphere. "McCloud, this is for you. No fighting, no stress. You've been pushed rather hard lately, like Captain Birse, but you don't have the special forces training to help deal with it. I don't like the look in your eyes as of late. I want you to take it easy yet I'm short good pilots, so I'm forced to call on you. Are you and Toad up for a simple search-and-identify job on Venom's surface?"

"Of course, Admiral," Fox replied. His voice was enthusiastic but he couldn't hide his bloodshot eyes. "Whatever needs to be done."

"Very well. After our initial detection of the unidentified Arwing, relay command bombarded the area with mini-probes, many of which were able to reach Venom's surface. Although none of the probes turned up any sign of our mysterious visitor, one of them did find a weak identification pattern originating from this spot in the middle of a nameless desert wasteland. I want to know what this ID belongs to."

"What's so odd about that?" Fox asked. "There must be hundreds of wrecked fighters and ships from the war in that quadrant alone. What's special about one ID pattern?"

"Firstly, this wouldn't normally be odd except that relay command notified me that the probes had been programmed to only read a single ID pattern: that of an Arwing." McGarret let the point sink in for a moment. "The signal is not the same as our mystery visitor which means either something has glitched or there's another one out there. Either way, we have to know whether we're up against more Arwings. Secondly," He paused and hit another button. A blue circle appeared near the pulsing red dot, further west. "This ID pattern is only a few hundred miles away from Andross' former base of operations. I find that disturbingly coincidental."

It was Fox's turn to snap to a sitting attention. Like a wave of scalding water, old memories flooded his mind, some more obscure and faded by time than others. But his final assault on Venom could never be forgotten. The fight with Starwolf, trekking alone under the surface of Venom through a network of tunnels – later discovered to be reserve fighter launch routes – to finally confront the man who killed his mother and father and brought Lylat to a dark age of war. But it didn't end there. Most vivid in his mind was what happened after Andross' defenses had fallen. The coward tried to bring Fox with him to his grave. An explosion rocked his Arwing, sparks flew, he hit his head on the canopy...and then that voice. Something happened then that he never told anyone, not even Peppy or Falco or Slippy. He heard a voice crackling through his comm like a ghost in his head…

_"Don't ever give up, my son."_

Another Arwing was with him. It was impossible. It couldn't be. But James McCloud, his father, led him to safety. His head throbbed from the strike it had taken and his instruments were in a catastrophic state. For so long afterwards he had convinced himself that it was an illusion. It was the most emotional day of his life, after all. He had just killed the man responsible for his parents' deaths. Why would James not be on his mind? But it seemed so real. Even after he escaped Venom and the Arwing disappeared, the whole thing seemed so real.

_"You've become so strong, Fox."_

"McCloud?"

Fox blinked and his eyes focused again, centered on the blue circle pulsing on the holograph of Venom. It was foolish to think. It had been a hallucination, period, brought on by head trauma and an emotionally draining fight. Besides, if James truly had been alive all that time, why hadn't he come home earlier? Why not stay around afterwards? He began to feel like a fool in front of his friends even though he hadn't even mentioned his thoughts.

"McCloud," the admiral repeated, "I think I know what you're thinking. It might be your father's, correct?"

Fox swallowed. How could he know?

"Intel entertained that notion as well. In his debrief after the incident involving your father's capture, Peppy Hare noted that James McCloud's craft was damaged beyond repair and forced to crash-land. If Andross already had Arwing factories like Papetoon running, he would have no need for a husk of an Arwing so it might have been left to rot in the desert. This signal may be nothing more than his old wreck."

Of course, Fox thought. He relaxed a bit knowing that his secret was still safe but a part of him couldn't help but feel disappointed by McGarret's logic. He had to stop feeding into the desperate fantasy that kept him up for so many nights since the war. His father was dead. His mother was dead. Andross was dead.

Then why did they all still haunt him?

"Fox, you okay?"

Falco's voice. Fox looked over to see him and Gage looking at him with curious, if not concerned expressions.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just haven't been to Venom in awhile."

"It's a simple mission, McCloud." McGarret's fingers danced across the keys once more and the holo-projector's image flickered and died. "The coordinates have been sent to Toad. Just get a complete identification scan of whatever's projecting this signal and report back here."

"I will, Admiral."

As McGarret dismissed them, Fox blinked numerous times. He could not cleanse the image of Venom from his eyes. He thought he was over it, moved on past his parents' deaths. He avenged them; what else could he do? Something burrowed its way to the front of his mind, something Dianus had taunted the Vanguard with during her last exchange of threats. She threatened that Venom would "swallow" them. At that moment, Fox realized that the vile planet already had swallowed the people he loved. A car bomb set by Andross' lackeys killed his mother. His father never left the planet alive. Even Fox had literally been swallowed by the gaping maw of Venom to fight Andross and end the war.

Maybe, Fox thought, maybe I never really made it out. Maybe I'm still in there, still trying to find peace in my shattered life. Maybe Andross made good on his threat and really did take me down with him, never letting my heart find peace or my mind be free of that goddamn war.

"Or maybe I'm just too damn philosophical for my own good."

Gage stopped at the doorway and turned. "What'd you say? You sure you're okay?"

"Nothing. I'm alright."

* * *

-

_Macbethian/Venomian transitional airspace  
1412 hours Vanguard time_

-

Falco flipped the red switch above his head and the ship eased into a cool, relaxed autopilot vector towards Venom airspace. Distant stars and inconsequential debris rushed around the canopy, creating a blurry effect that could lull the pilot to sleep if not careful. The speed was not that of a warp jump but rather what military pilots called "hopping" speed, for when a full warp would be overkill but normal thrusters would take too long. It was Falco's favorite visual, an effect not as boring as dead space but not as dizzying as warp speed.

"How long?" Gage asked from the co-pilot's chair beside him. The T/W Mantis recon fighter was an agile, small craft slightly bigger than an Arwing with a two-man capacity; Falco only wished the cockpit was one-man.

"Fifteen minutes maybe," the avian grumbled back.

"Think you can go that long without blowing the mission?"

"Screw you, boy scout. I didn't ask for this shit assignment."

Gage scoffed. "What do you care, you're getting paid for it. Probably three times my yearly salary."

"Not my fault you chose the wrong career path."

"You would think that, wouldn't you?"

Silence fell over the cockpit once again. With a sigh, Gage checked the fasteners and straps on his gear: a light black recon vest over gray and black digital pattern BDUs. He tightened the gloves around his wrists and re-checked his pistol just for something to do. As he slid the gun back into his thigh holster, his hand brushed his pocket. He reached inside and pulled out a folded piece of paper. The blurry light from around them danced across its surface as he held it, stared at it, and nothing more.

"What's that?" Falco asked in a disinterested tone.

"A letter. Printed it out this morning. Haven't even read it yet."

"Why the hell not, waiting for some old wrinkled officer to tell you it's ok? Who's it from?"

"Legion Security."

For once, Falco was momentarily at a loss. He gaped for a moment then said, "No shit. What do they want?"

Gage flicked the paper between his middle and forefinger and handed it to him. Falco unfolded the paper and scanned the first few lines of the letter, mumbling the formal greetings and introductions. When he arrived at the second paragraph he began reading aloud.

"Legion Security has earned its place as Lylat's most trusted private military corporation because of dedicated, talented soldiers like yourself. The fact that your military history is only half-known due to classified operations only makes you more desirable as a Legion operator since that half is qualification enough in and of itself. If you choose to continue your combat career in Legion Security, you would be paid quadruple what you earn now in addition to performance bonuses, hazard bonuses, overtime, and success bonuses. Further, you would continue to serve Corneria as a respected member of Legion Security while securing your own financial freedom. Though you have denied our offer before, the Board of Directors here at Legion feels you are worth any effort to sign on. Please consider our generous offer and your own future. Signed by the freakin' head of Legion Security. Well, digitally signed, but still."

"Yeah." Gage took the letter back and stuffed it into his pocket. "These guys and their buddies won't leave me alone."

"Buddies? Other private contractors have tried to hire you?"

"Yeah. Once some of my missions went public they were all over me and some others on my team."

Falco hadn't lost his gaping look. "Let me get this straight. The biggest private military corporation in the galaxy wants you bad and wants to pay up the ass for you and you're sitting out here near Venom doing military dirty work and high-risk recon and combat for a chicken scratch paycheck?

"First of all, let's call 'em as they are. Legion's a bunch of mercenaries. They can spice up the language with 'private military corporation' all they want but they kill for money, period. Just tack and "inc" onto the end of StarFox, get a neat letterhead and some expensive suits, and you can call yourselves a private military corporation also. And you know why Legion's so big and rich? They charge crazy rates to clients including the Cornerian military and they'll take most any job that won't get them reamed by the press. And don't think that they don't pull black ops of their own, things that could be called unscrupulous at best. Like I was telling Fara the other night, mercs make me sick. They fight for money, not because people need defending or tyrants need to be confronted. There's no duty, no honor, no justice, just money. Makes me ashamed sometimes to know that they get all their employees from the same military I belong to. I don't know why I'm bothering to tell you this. Fox understands though, I think."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Gage shrugged. "Well, think about it. With StarFox's incredible fame after the war, Fox could have built your group into something that would make Legion look small. He could have hired tons of eager soldiers, settled the operation down, maybe get rid of old-timers like Peppy…he could have dropped everyone really since it was his group and his name in the headlines. StarFox could have had fleets of Arwings ruling the skies and space. But Fox didn't do that. He knew expansion would lessen his grip on something dangerous, something very ambitious and evil people would try to get their claws into. With one wrong move, the phenomenon of StarFox could have turned into a nightmare. So he kept StarFox and the Arwings where they belonged: small, tight-knit, and adhering to the moral code his father built. And he has my eternal respect for that. And that's why Legion can stick their offer up their asses. I may have to go to a cramped room every night and wash blood and dirt off my face but at least I can look myself in the mirror to do it. I fight to keep Lylat secure, not pad my pocket."

Falco scoffed and gave a round of mocking applause. "Beautiful speech, Captain Corneria. I can't believe an incredible offer like this is being wasted on you."

"I didn't think you'd understand. They warned us about people like you in officer school; nutjobs who fight to kill or for the thrill. In your case, it's probably that and money too."

"Shove it, boy scout. I don't go looking to kill, I just try to enjoy my work. And I appreciate the money side. You don't like it, too bad."

Gage raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying if Legion offered you a position you'd drop Fox and go?"

Falco hesitated. He opened his mouth to answer more than once but stopped himself each time. Finally, he just grunted and said, "I dunno. But don't go trying to analyze me. I think you're full of shit, too. Why'd you bother printing the letter? Why so nervous about reading it? I think you're actually considering joining Legion."

"What? You're out of your mind. More so than usual."

"I got you pegged on this one. I couldn't care less about what you do or how you do it but at least stop the bullshit. I know you're considering it because it's a tempting change just like joining StarFox was for me."

"I can't wait to hear this."

Falco didn't speak immediately. Whether a trick of the blurry light or the machination of his own thoughts, his eyes seemed to lose focus. When he spoke, Gage didn't get the feeling that the words were directed at him. "There's only so many times you can dance with death and escape before you start fearing the dance. That's how most of my teen years were; fast times, no cares. I was happy with gang life. Nothing but thrills and fun. Then Fox came to try and recruit me. I knew he was doing it as much to try and help me as for my flight skills. I blew him off. But after that I couldn't have fun being careless anymore. I saw death if I continued that way. No family, no real friends, no money, no life past my teens. So I joined StarFox. I didn't want to at first but it was the right choice and now it's how I want it to be. I bet it's the same with you. These past days have been rough. You ain't a superhero or some shit and you know that. You know that if you keep on with Dagger you're more likely to die than live long enough to be promoted past captain. Maybe you want a family or a kickass car or a freakin chicken farm, how the hell should I know? But there's only so many times you can escape death before it gets to you. You know that Legion's combat jobs will be cake next to what you do now. So you're enticed. You can repeat all you want about duty, loyalty, blah blah, but like the admiral said: you're just a man." Falco blinked from his past reflections, turned his head, and smirked. "Not bad, huh?"

"It's all bullshit," Gage muttered.

"That didn't sound very convincing."

"It may be hard for a thug like you to imagine someone willing to die for his planet and willing to sacrifice money and comfort for a better cause, but here it is. Your little story made me think about what I want. I know that what I do matters and I want to keep on doing it. Besides, if you think it's a bad idea then it must be right. My job comes before my wallet, period."

"We'll see."

"Just shut up and fly. I liked you better when you just grunted. How long?"

Falco laughed. "Few minutes 'til you earn what passes for your pay."

_-Chapter 8 coming soon-_


	12. In An Instant

[Author's Note: Not much to say here. I'll let the chapter speak for itself which I hope it does adequately. I tried a little experimental prose structure near the end which I really hope works. Many thanks again to all readers and especially reviewers. Also, to answer the question about Dagger I'll just say expect to get to know Gage's crowd. =) -Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 8  
In An Instant  
_Venom orbit_  
_1450 hours_ _Vanguard time_

-

Fox's head throbbed; his entire world had turned red. The redness of blood trickling down his split forehead into his eye, the red warning lights and blaring alarm assaulting the cockpit, the angry red of raw rage in his mind only beginning to subside now that Andross had fallen. The Arwing vibrated and shuddered as if weeping from the pain of the battle. Outside the canopy was only fire and smoke. Fox knew he would not escape, not this time. He had avenged his parents and now he would join them. A great wave of fear washed over him, not only of imminent death but of being swallowed and incinerated in the belly of the most evil beast in Lylat: Venom. He didn't know whether he was already in Hell or not.

_"Don't ever give up, my son."_

Fox looked up. It appeared and vanished at the whim of a blink like a fickle mirage. A silver angel danced amidst the inferno, as tiny in the distance as the model his father had given him as a present so many years before. It looped around him and slowed before him, beckoning him forth. Fox obeyed the voice as a child obeys his parents; he instinctively took control of his battered Arwing once more and urged it forward toward the specter. It bucked and sputtered but he held firm. He shook his head to clear his addled mind and watched the Arwing before him flicker in and out of view. Was it real? Could it be real? Could he trust his eyes after that blow to the head?

His radio crackled to life again, a light voice blending into the white noise, as unsure of its own existence as the blurry Arwing.

_"Follow me, Fox."_

_"Fox…"_

"Fox!"

Fox's muzzle jerked upwards and he ended up hitting his head on the canopy right where it hurt in the dream. He groaned and rubbed it, goosebumps tingling on his arm as his fingers brushed the scar already there. Few things could match the eeriness of waking from a nightmare and realizing that it had actually once occurred. Venom filled most of his view from the cockpit of his Arwing and the gentle hum of the thrusters threatened to lull him to sleep again. Admiral McGarret had been right: he needed rest.

"I'm here," Fox grunted after activating his headset. "Fell asleep. Bad dream."

Slippy sighed in relief from the other end. "Yeesh, I was wondering if something was wrong. Well, you can't expect good dreams when you fall asleep with Venom in front of you. We should break Venom's atmosphere in ten minutes or so. Are you sure you don't want to be on the Great Fox? You've been out there for two hours."

"I just needed to be alone. Space is good for that."

"Well, just so you know, I can conduct the scan from low atmosphere. You don't even need to be on the surface. You're not planning to actually go down there, are you?"

Fox felt Venom staring back at him, past his eyes. "I need to see whatever's down there. I can't explain it right now. I just need to see it with my own eyes."

"Fox, I know what the admiral said about this being simple but I don't get a good feeling from Venom. I don't think anyone does. Maybe if we had the whole team here providing support but I won't feel comfortable with you down there alone."

"I have to, Slippy. Just do the scan and keep an eye on the horizon and I'll be back up as soon as I can."

The toad sighed again; he hadn't been comfortable being in charge of the bridge to begin with, much less with a solo member on Venom's surface. "You're the captain, Captain. Just don't doze off again."

"Talk to me then." A sly grin spread on his muzzle as he stretched as much as the cockpit would allow. "How's your online fling going? What's her name again, Lola-Pop?"

"Hey, first of all I think it's a very witty pun. Secondly, it's not a fling. She really likes me and I really like her. And thirdly, shut up. It's bad enough I have Falco teasing me. Let him bother Gage for a while."

"I'm sure he is." The grin stayed with Fox; it went miles towards cleaning the dream from his mind. "I'm just messing with you. I think it's great at least someone on Starfox can hold a relationship besides Peppy, even if you've technically never met her. Now that I think about it, didn't you say online dating was stupid like a year ago?"

"Yeah, but that was before I met Lola. I don't know…I guess you never really know a person fully. Sometimes you have to take a chance. It could work out."

"It could." Fox blinked. Pigma came to mind, though it was hardly a surprise given that he had been thinking about his father constantly since the briefing. "Well, just be careful. Remember my father and Pigma. You know someone for years, you think you know everything about them and who they are, then boom, it all gets blown apart in an instant. You have to be careful where you ration your trust. And even then you could be wrong; she could be the dating equivalent of Pigma. My father learned the hard way that anyone, no matter how well you think you know them, can turn from friend to monster in an instant. I don't want you to have to learn that too."

"Ah, you're just cynical because you're always working and never dating. If Peppy was here and not back on Corneria he'd agree with me. You should try meeting people like I do. It's the best option since we're always on the move."

Fox chuckled to himself. "Gage once told me that some people simply don't have a match. He was referring to himself but I'm starting to feel the same way."

"Well, I'd love to chat and prove both of you tough, rugged loners wrong but it looks it's time for business so we'll pick this up later. If you still won't come back aboard, just be careful. Keep in constant contact."

"Will do."

Fox activated the reentry thermal shield and let the turbulence dampeners handle most of the flying as he broke orbit and entered Venom's stratosphere. His nerves stood on edge. The violent bucking of the ship seemed to urge him to leave while the light crackling of static in his ear as the comms adjusted whispered in his brain, forming out the words _stop…go back._ He shook his head. While he knew coming back to this wasteland of a planet wouldn't be easy, he felt as if he was going back into battle again. The clouds split and revealed rust-brown desert in all directions, perforated every now and then by the occasional cliff or rock outcropping. Lightning tore through the sky on the horizon, well out of range for the sound of thunder to even reach Fox's ears.

"Fox, it's Slippy. Comms took a while to catch up. Are you okay?"

Fox smacked the side of his headset to clear out the last of the lingering breakage. "I'm here. The place hasn't changed much since last time, has it?"

"Well, there's one less maniacal dictator. That's about the only thing that's improved."

"Then again, Dianus could be here now." Fox shivered. He meant it as a simple fact bringing the implication to light suddenly made him feel very vulnerable. "Let's get this over with. Give me a waypoint."

"Transferring now."

The coordinates blinked across the Arwing's monitor. Fox lowered to near ground level and cut the thrusters, letting the hover burners slowly take him forward. Sand billowed away from him in great clouds and was whisked away by the obvious outside winds. The coordinates blinked again and turned green, signaling he had arrived. He squinted and noticed an unnatural swell in the sand a hundred or so yards out. With a flick of his finger to reengage the thrusters, he boosted past it and pulled into a U-turn in time to see the swell of sand practically explode away from where he had boosted. The cleanup revealed a husk of metal that had been lying at an angle under the sand.

"I think I found it. Gonna land and check out. Get the scan done so we can get out of here."

"Already started and long distance scans show zero organic readings," Slippy replied. "Don't stay out there too long, the atmospheric readings aren't lethal but it's nothing you want to be happy about having in your lungs."

"Copy." With a deep breath to settle his nerves, Fox eased the skids onto an even patch of sand and popped the canopy release.

* * *

-

_Vicinity of decommissioned Venomian Defense Satellite 88212  
1439 hours Vanguard time_

-

"Would you look at that…"

Falco's eyes and awe were directed at a medium-class cruiser docked on the far side of Venomian Defense Satellite 88212, codename Bolse. The satellite/space station hybrid itself was an impressive piece of hardware for its time with fully stocked living quarters for military staff, deflector shields, and a spire rising from the middle that held multiple laser cannons. While it now floated still and silent, a grim relic of the horrid war, dim lights flickered from some of the support systems and windows. The military had all but dismantled it after the war but someone was working at putting it back in shape. After letting his eyes soak in the visual intel, Gage followed Falco's gaze.

"That's it," the fox said. "The Hellraiser, a hijacked Katina Air Defense S-class cruiser. The rest of the modifications are theirs."

The pride of the sleek ship had long been buried beneath layers of whatever paint Hellion decided to heave onto it, resulting in a dark coating of chaotic black and sickly brown and red. Metal plating had been bolted to certain spots without ceremony or worry for appearance and the ship wore blackened laser scores like flaunts of resistance. Thought it lulled peacefully in its docked state, Gage's stomach tightened the longer he stared at it. The psychotic vision of the ship was just a glimpse into how Ares and Eris thought, how their minds sought to unleash terror. Not a single mission went by that Gage did not think about his one failed assignment, the one time under his command that Dagger did not get the job done. It was a mental obstacle he had to fight through every time he strapped on his gear. How could the galaxy be safe with psychopaths like Ares and Eris running around? Dagger could have stopped them but they failed under his command and more people have died to Hellion since then. Now he could rectify that mistake.

"Back it down a notch, boy scout. The brass said that the twins are targets of opportunity, not the objective."

Gage grunted; his intense expression must have been obvious. "Since when do you care about rules?"

Falco shrugged. "When my paycheck depends on them. McGarret might not like it if I come back without you."

"What, you think if I ran into the twins I'd lose?"

"I remember hearing about Hellion and they ain't amateurs. We like to keep tabs on other freelancers, especially those on the other side of the law. They're pretty fucked up." Falco paused. "Besides, you got your ass kicked by them last time you met, didn't you?"

The only thing that kept Gage from caving Falco's head in was the knowledge that he spoke the undeniable truth. He swallowed the anger and saved it for the true targets. "Like you and the admiral said, I'm just a man. Take us in."

With a light chuckle, Falco eased the Mantis towards the docking ports on the opposite side of Bolse from the Hellraiser. The craft was doing what it was supposed to do so far; its scan dampeners and life sign scramblers were state of the art and it was doubtful that anyone in the galaxy adapted any countermeasures yet, let alone rogues like Hellion. There were no signs of life, alarm, or weapons fire from either the station or the Hellraiser. The Mantis dipped below the flat top area that held the weapon spire and slowly drifted into a maintenance station designed to receive construction craft and drones. The ship barely fit but Falco's experienced touch put it comfortably down in the hangar. Once the skids alighted on the pressure sensitive floor, the airlock closed and recycled the air. Within moments, the Mantis' atmospheric gauge blinked green.

"Guess that means basic life support is on," Falco said as the canopy rose, allowing stale, bitter air into his nose. "Well, I did my part. Get going."

Gage vaulted from the cockpit and gave the tiny hangar a quick sweep: not much more than a big metal cube with old, decrepit station maintenance supplies hanging from modular brackets on the walls. He checked his vest and gear one more time before turning his attention to the small semi-holographic display strapped to his left inner-wrist.

"What's that?" Falco asked.

"Map display with situational awareness updates. It's piggy-backing on the station's emergency frequencies. Alarms, fires, explosions, whatever…it'll show up here."

"Why don't you just use an eye-HUD?"

"I do usually but the Vanguard doesn't stock special forces gear natively. The one I brought with me disappeared during the chaos of the initial attack, probably wedged in some vent somewhere. Nope, doing it old school today. Can't wait 'til my team arrives with some decent hardware."

"Lemme see that." Falco grabbed the fox's wrist and touched the display, panning the map back and forth. "Huh. This place is mostly just a maze of maintenance hallways and access hatches. Not much breathing room."

"Works to my advantage." Gage pulled his arm back and covered the display with the attached flap to hide its luminescence. "The maintenance control center isn't too far from here. I should be able to get a read on the satellite's status from there. Then we're out of here. Stay here and don't do anything stupid. In fact, don't do anything at all. Have the ship ready to go in twenty minutes. If I'm not back in thirty, leave. Radio silence except emergencies."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Stay here, wait."

Gage rolled his eyes and headed toward the exit.

It became rapidly clear that the narrow, dimly lit corridors were not built with the crew's comfort in mind. Metal grating served as a flimsy walkway with no walls or ceilings to speak of, but rather the bare pipes, cables, and infrastructure. Though hiding could be problematic in a pinch, the grinding and hissing of the station's technical innards covered even the noise of running on the grating. Gage took no chances; he crept forward in a smooth walk, pistol in his right hand and knife inverted in his left. Every now and then he would flick his wrist and take a peek at the map to make sure he was on the right course.

After five minutes of unhindered progress, he heard a low rumbling through the cacophony of the station. He eased forward to a T-junction that branched left and flattened his back against the corner wall. Voices; two of them, conversing just around the corner. Between bouts of clanking from further inside the satellite and jets of steam from behind him, Gage could make out part of the conversation. One was complaining about money he lost on Cornerian sports while the other chuckled and gloated about how he was going to spend his apparently sizeable winnings. Another steam jet, another few seconds of groaning and gloating. Gage figured he would get no intel from them and he had no time to wait it out. He mentally secured their locations based on the volume of their voices. The complainer had his back to Gage; his voice was more muffled. Both stood about five paces away. The fox holstered his pistol and twirled the knife around his palm to keep the weight fresh on his fingers.

The sports loser never knew what killed him. Gage glided around the corner and brought the knife up between the ribs on the back of the pirate's ribcage, striking the heart. The second pirate, a black avian, could only blink in shock once before Gage brought his left foot up around the first victim and delivered a hard high-kick to the throat. He pulled the knife free, grabbed the gurgling avian by the back of the neck, and pulled him forward into the knife, performing the same cruel surgery on the pirate's heart. Once movement had ceased, Gage let the body fall. Blood dripped through the grating onto the pipes below.

"Damn it," he cursed to himself, cleaning his knife on the avian's dark blue jacket. He had wanted to avoid contact, despite the schedule he had to keep. All he could do now was hurry with the mission and hope that the two pirates wouldn't be missed for a while.

He soon discovered why the pirates had been mulling around; a quick check of his map revealed that a security anteroom leading to the satellite maintenance control room lay nearby. Gage sighed as he slid up next to the thick, rusted door of the anteroom. He never felt natural in heavily manufactured environments; forests and greenery were overflowing with places to hide, ambush, and space to move around. It afforded the enemy the same advantages but Gage seldom had to worry about a foe matching his or Dagger's ability or instinct. Even bombed out cities, urban streets, and snow offered more tactically than ships or satellites like Bolse. And they all smelled better. Gage grinned at the fond memory of a mission charging Dagger with the covert elimination of a rabblerousing turncoat officer a few years after the war. The only trick was the officer was commanding troops in the midst of a full scale battle against Katinian military in the heart of a razed city on Katina and there would be hell to pay if either side found out Corneria was involved. Crawling through rubble in the dead of night, the only light from flashes of explosions, gunfire around every corner, no allies and no reinforcements, just the sniper rifle on his back, the prayer that his team would meet him at the rendezvous, and the years of training controlling his every thought and action. Gage remembered it like a school boy remembers his first kiss. Then it was back to the stinking, cramped satellite.

He tried the door switch and found that it slid open without complaint, which evoked a frown. No lock, no guard inside. Perhaps he was letting his knowledge of Hellion get in the way, suspecting traps around every corner. Then again, if he suspected a trap during their first meeting, a Dagger team member and fourteen civilians would be alive.

_Can't be thinking that way._

Gage crept into the room and let his handgun sweep from corner to corner. The anteroom was well lit at least and had a solid metal floor, though the sickly yellow rust color didn't change. Once the door slid shut behind him the sound level dampened to a dull hum. He eased his combative stance and surveyed the room. A large double door stood on the far wall, reinforced metal bars embracing it horizontally near the bottom and top. Though there was once a full compliment of furniture and supplies, as evident by scrapes in the floor and discolorations on the walls, all that now remained were two waist-high consoles rising from the floor in the middle of the room, about twenty feet apart, each facing the double doors. Gage didn't like the look of it. He walked up to the left one, studied the program running on the screen, and groaned. After holstering his pistol, he turned and placed a finger to his ear.

"Falco, come in."

"Can I leave now?"

"Shut up and listen. The maintenance control room's lock is secured by a binary input program. It needs two people to activate consoles at the same time. I need you here."

Falco scoffed over the radio. "Hey, I'm your chauffer not your combat buddy. I didn't sign on to go sneaking around some—"

"The route is clear. The sooner you get here the sooner we leave. I'll guide you in with the map."

A moment's hesitation. "Fine, make it fast."

The only silver lining to this constrictive operating environment was the ease of navigation. No side paths to get lost on, no open spaces, no extravagant distractions. Gage easily remembered every turn he made but referred to the map just to be absolutely sure. Within five minutes, he gave the last turn order and aimed his pistol at the door. The door slid open and Falco entered, alone, and rolled his eyes at Gage's cautiousness.

"Lovely place," he grunted as the fox replaced his pistol. He hooked his thumb over his shoulder towards the bodies in the corridor. "Have fun with the locals?"

"Just helped them settle a gambling dispute." Gage stood before the right console. "Let's go, take that one there."

Falco moseyed to the left console and ran his finger over the touchscreen. "So what do you need again?"

"First, enter the code. The one I got from the Vanguard techs is H-B-X-V-four-four-two. Hope no one changed it."

Each console beeped weakly when its respective operator touched in the digits.

"Alright, now we have to hit the 'Entry' button at the same time. Half a second early or late will negate the process and most likely will activate a security alert. So don't screw up. I'll count down from three."

"Wait," Falco interrupted. "Is it Three, two, one, hit or do we hit on one?"

"Who the hell ever hits on one? It's three, two, one, hit. Okay?"

"Fine, so freakin' sorry."

Gage's finger hovered over the button. "Three…two…one…now."

Each console beeped practically in unison. With a heavy hydraulic release, the reinforced bars over the double doors slid into the wall and the doors themselves slowly rose. Gage was about to head for the maintenance control room when his console's screen flickered once, then more violently until the entire display went black. He shrugged it off as part of the satellite's dilapidated state until the screen filled again, this time with something all too bone-chillingly familiar: simple words lazily appearing line by line. He swallowed a sudden itch of fear and studied the text.

_Said the Princess to the pilot,_

_An avian of blue,_

_I'll pay you anything you'd like,_

_I have this job for you._

_Said the pilot to the Princess,_

_In tongue of traitor's art._

_I'll put a laser straight and true,_

_Through the red fox's heart._

Gage's breath caught in his throat. In his peripheral vision he saw quick movement from the left console. In the blink of an eye, his pistol was in his hand and the iron sights honed on Falco. He caught a glimpse of Falco pulling his gun as well before a laser from the fox's pistol took him in the shoulder, sending him reeling to the floor and his gun flying across the room. Falco grabbed his charred, bloodied shoulder and let loose a string of curses.

Gage gritted his teeth as he stormed towards the traitor. He had missed on purpose; such a close, simple shot would always find its mark in his hands. He grabbed Falco's jacket lapel, shoved him against the floor, and snarled in his face. "I always knew it would come to this, you piece of shit. You're only alive because Fox would never forgive me."

Falco quaked from the pain in his shoulder but his eyes still burned. He spit in Gage's face. "You were always a tool, first the military's and now for that Dianus bitch. I knew all that boy scout stuff was bullshit; no one's that devoted to anything. Finish it, you goddamn coward!"

Gage's brow furrowed. What was he saying? He spoke as if he was the innocent one. A thought popped into his mind, all at once admirable and detestable for its cruelty. He released Falco and walked over to the left console. Just as he suspected, the screen was filled with its own blocks of test:

_Said the Princess to the soldier,_

_A fox of bloody red,_

_I'll pay you anything you'd like,_

_I need a nuisance dead._

_Said the soldier to the Princess,_

_In tongue of traitor's art._

_I'll put a laser straight and true,_

_Through the avian's heart._

"Oh my God," Gage whispered. Dianus became more of a monster with each virtual encounter. He knelt beside the bleeding partner once again. "Falco, listen."

"Go to hell."

"Look, shut up a second. I got a similar poem on my console citing you as a traitor. Dianus just tried to get us to kill each other."

Falco blinked. Between the pain and the sudden information, his reaction time was slower than usual. He finally muttered, "That bitch."

"Come on, get up. Get back to the ship."

"Ow! Get the hell off! What now?"

Despite the avian's protests, Gage pulled him to his feet. "If Dianus sent us those poems, she's watching us somehow. She knows we're here." Gage stopped and thought as his analytical streak continued. "If she set this up, she knows damn well I have the quicker draw and better aim so she knows I would be alive to complete the mission. Why would she allow that…?" A wave of fear accompanied the falling of the pieces into place. Hellion likes money but the twins love chaos and striking against order even more. They love striking military the most, especially elite soldiers, and always plan their own acts of terror. In every case file Gage has seen on them, they never worked for anyone else. Why would Hellion submit themselves to Dianus' orders and hang around a decrepit space station? Only if she offered something they could never resist. Gage twisted his wrist and checked the map; a small pulsing alarm indicator told the tale.

"Falco, you have to ignore the pain and prep the ship. I'll get the data McGarret needs and meet you there. We have no more than five minutes until Ares and Eris and their goons are on top of us. Do you understand?"

"What? If those psychos are coming for us let's just book now!"

"They're not coming for us. They're coming for me." Gage ripped the map from the straps around his arm and tossed it to Falco. "Get back to the ship. If I'm not there in six minutes, get out of here."

Falco seemed at a loss for words. Without another sound, he nodded and ran to the corridor, his brow moist with pained sweat. Gage hurried to the maintenance control room through the open double doors; the room itself seemed wholly out of place in the sewer-like décor leading up to it. Only about twenty feet wide and long, it contained a single swiveling chair in the middle and dozens of monitors and control stations surrounding it, practically forming a sphere around it. Each monitor showed statistics and security feeds of every critical system on Bolse. However, something bothered Gage as he approached one of the semi-holographic keyboards; the equipment was too new. No scratches, scuffs, dust, not even on the chair. Whatever Dianus had planned for Bolse, she planned to keep the station running for a long time.

He had no time to worry about that. His eyes focused and his fingers coordinated, he worked his way through the fortunately generic operating system which he knew his way around and began a copy of all system report files for the past week. At first, he selected the copy location as a data chip but with his time window running short he typed in the Mantis' frequency and formed a direct link with its data storage. Some data may be lost but at least Gage would be sure that at least something made it off the station if he didn't. As graphic layouts appeared and disappeared on the monitor through the copy process, Gage caught a glimpse of a complete satellite thermal outlay with intense heat concentration from the core of the station. He didn't know what it meant but it made acquiring the data for analysis that much more urgent. A progress bar appeared on the monitor before him and filled at a painfully slow rate. When a pleasant tone sounded its completion a minute later, he quickly erased the Mantis' stored frequency and breathed a bit easier. The mission was complete.

He burst from the control room at a full sprint but skidded to a halt near the consoles in the anteroom. His breath slowed; footsteps from the corridor, not far. They would have a clear shot if he went ahead. Pistol in hand again, he knew he had twelve shots left after the one he put in Falco. Judging from the running footsteps there were more than that possibly with more on the way. With the cramped corridor and doorway he could take out twelve with one shot each and possibly three or four more in hand-to-hand before the numbers would overpower him or someone would score a lucky shot. Even if he did make a run for the Mantis, he couldn't risk leading the attackers to Falco and the stolen data.

Footsteps pounding on the metal, echoing in his temples, Gage stared down at his pistol. He could wait. Ares and Eris would be amongst them; they would never miss this opportunity. He could wait, allow the pirates to come to him and spread out. Then…focus on nothing but the twin tigers. He could take one down, probably both before the pirates pulled the trigger and filled him with thirty lasers at once. It would be worth it. He'd do Lylat a great favor and settle his mistake once and for all.

Gage stared at the pistol in his hand. He just had to wait. The arrogant assholes would walk right into his crosshairs.

_But that wouldn't stop Dianus._

Gage gritted his teeth. He could taste it; the vision of their heads exploding by his own hand satisfied a lust he never knew could be so strong. He trembled with anticipation of setting his mistake right. All these years he had repressed it behind military training and the duty of his job, but being so close to the twins…it brought out something in him that he loved and hated all at once.

_This wasn't part of your orders. Killing them does nothing to hinder Dianus._

Gage didn't want to die; it would prove Ares and Eris right, that chaos, terror, and primal rage could trump discipline, training, and devotion. A Dagger operative does not throw his life away when there's a job to be done. A Dagger operative does not fill his mind with vengeance and hate when his mind could be better suited to discipline. A Dagger operative is faithful to Corneria, not his own needs and desires.

Gage dropped the gun. It clattered on the metal floor. He let out a gasp and realized that he had been holding his breath. Releasing the gun was like releasing his greatest wish and for a moment, the backlash hit him like a punch to the gut. His vision blurred and he realized, with some surprise, that his eyes had momentarily begun to water.

"God…damn it," he choked under his breath. He still wanted the twins dead more than anything but his mind was in the right place. The fear that he was letting down those who died under Hellion passed. He knew he was no coward. He just refused to be a slave to his vengeance. He was calm now, collected. He was clear of mind and focused in action. He saw his mission and nothing else. He once again remembered who he was, how much he believed the speech he gave to Falco in the Mantis, and the lengths he knew he would go to prove himself right. He was captain of Dagger once more.

Gage kept his eyes on the floor as pirates stormed the room, hugging the walls and forming a perimeter completely surrounding him, assault rifles aimed at his chest. Soon, the footsteps ceased…all but two pair. When Gage looked up, his jaw was set and his eyes were steel. The tigers' grins were as wide as their muzzles would allow and their eyes hungry, the same wild hunger Gage had defeated.

"I thought we'd have to kill him, sister," Ares said, his voice a subdual of crazed excitement. "This is pleasant. So, so pleasant. Dianus just wants his corpse. We get to decide how he…shuffles…from this mortal coil."

Eris giggled. "Captain Gage Birse. I want him first! I bet he ain't as tough as he looks."

"They never are, sister."

"I still say I can make a Dagger chump scream. We killed the first one too easily. What do you think, sweetie? Can I make you scream?" With a flick of her wrist, Eris produced a knife from an arm sheath. She wrapped her arm around Gage's neck, pulled herself so close she could kiss him, and whispered in his ear with the knife point digging into the side of his neck. "We'll have so much fun, you and me, me and you. We'll have so much fun."

* * *

-

_Venom  
1512 hours_

-

Fox walked forward slowly, his footsteps muffled in the hot, rough Venomian sand. Wind whistled in his ears and sand stung his face but nothing broke his concentration; his eyes never left the wrecked Arwing ahead of him. The left wing and some of the chassis was buried in the sand; the ship sat askew as if the left skid had given out. The tinted canopy was still intact as was most of the armor. As Fox approached it his heart raced. He tried to garner some clue from the outside as to whether it was indeed James' and more, importantly, whether it was shot down or put down voluntarily after leading him from safety after Andross' defeat. But the elements had had their way with it for too long. Nothing was obvious.

Fox fell to his knees and scraped at the lopsided side of the Arwing, brushing away sand and grit until the silver underlay showed. He breathed heavily the nauseating Venomian air but kept working until red lettering appeared. A final hard shove of his hand and years of accumulated crust fell away.

_Cpt. James McCloud_

"Dear God," Fox breathed. He rose to his feet and put his hand to his ear. "Slippy…my God…it's his. It's my father's Arwing."

"I just found out myself. The scan completed. It's a lot to digest but that air's not doing you any good and this airspace isn't too friendly. We should go."

"One minute. I have to check something." Fox hesitated. For a moment, he didn't know whether he wanted to continue or not. But he couldn't stand going the rest of his life not knowing the truth. He bent his knees, wedged his fingers under the canopy glass, and pulled up with all the strength he had left. Even with the emergency release unlatched he had to fight the crust in the gears. Finally, sweat dripping from his face and muscles screaming in pain, the canopy flew open, sending Fox back onto his rear.

Empty. Just a sand-crusted cockpit.

Fox didn't know what he hoped to find. No body could either mean that James had indeed been taken prisoner and executed or that he had led his son from the maw of death then landed his crippled fighter and left. In the back of his mind Fox knew he was grasping for straws. He had hallucinated. James died by Andross' hands.

"It's empty," Fox said into his comm. "Cockpit's empty."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

He had no good answer. "Never mind."

Fox leaned over the cockpit and peered around. He remembered being no taller than his father's tail, sitting in what was then this gigantic cockpit, pretending to fly when he could barely reach the stick. He remembered looking at the gauges and faking that he knew how to read them. He remembered being a little older, old enough to have real talks with his father about the future. He would sit on the wing, his father in the cockpit, and they would talk while gazing at the half-completed Great Fox being constructed at the other end of Beltino Toad's research hangar. He had his first drink on that wing. James pointed out the secret compartment to the right of the seat, wedged between the cushion and the compact first aid kit. He produced a flask, they shared a bit, and he made Fox swear not to tell his mother.

Fox caught himself grinning a little as his memories floated up from the cockpit. He glimpsed the secret compartment and the grin faded. Something was stuck behind the side of the seat. Leaning over a bit more, he pulled the shredded cushion back a bit and pulled out the remains of a pair of sunglasses, the kind his father wore. The lenses were gone and the frames were all but eaten away but they were definitely his. Fox glanced down again and saw that the secret compartment was open a tiny sliver. He popped it open the rest of the way, reached inside, and pulled out James' flask.

No, not a flask. Something similar in shape: a black vid-recorder, a hand-held touchscreen used to record and send video and audio. It was the same brand that Starfox still used, albeit an older model. The compartment had kept it in remarkable shape, especially since the particular model was created for rugged military use. Fox flicked the on/off button and was surprised to see it power up; despite the manufacturer's claim that the power cell could last for decades with normal use he didn't expect it to be true.

"Slippy, I found something. I don't know, it could be my father's last words. I need to hear this. Now."

A moment's silence. "I understand, Fox. Let me know when you're on your way back up."

* * *

_"Admiral McGarret, sir. Ensign Dugan reporting as ordered."_

_"Yes, Ensign. The Papetoon salvage team has just reported that operations in the abandoned Arwing facility are complete. Is there anything to report?"_

_"Yes…yes, there is, sir…"_

_"Well? Out with it, Ensign. I have a ship to run."_

_"Yes, sir. Most of the facility was stripped clean long ago. All that remained were random useless Arwing components and personal items left by the staff. Clothes, toothbrushes, that kind of stuff."_

_"I see. Well, have them do one more surface sweep then return to the Vanguard."_

_"I, uh…there was one more thing, sir. I'm afraid it's a bit disturbing."_

_

* * *

  
_

The vid-recorder came to life, exhibiting a list of audio and video files. Only one file sat at the top of the empty list grid. Fox expected to find a journal or captain's log but instead found that single file simply entitled, "For Fox." His heart raced again. Whatever his father had to say before leaving his wreck was meant for him. His finger trembling despite the heat, he touched the file to open it. A black picture screen appeared with an audio progress bar at the bottom. Though he hoped to see James again, the picture remained black with a "no video available" line across it. As James' voice rose above the howling wind, Fox swallowed a wave of sadness and put the device to his ear.

"I can't let you see me, my son, not now, not after all that's happened. I doubt anyone will ever hear this, you least of all, but if by some miracle you're hearing me now please accept my voice and nothing else.

"Things moved too quickly. They spiraled out of control before I could do anything about it. You'll never know how it pained me to watch them lie to Peppy so he would believe I'm dead, and thus be forced to tell you. But through this all, I hid my pride as I watched you command Starfox with such skill, instinct, and above all morality. But I was never able to tell you that. I wanted to stay after I led you away from Venom's fire after you killed Andross but I couldn't. And now, before I wander into the desert and allow myself to finally die for what I've done, I have to tell you something that will make you hate me. And you should hate me."

* * *

_"Disturbing? What did you find?"_

_"Well, Admiral, a crate of miscellaneous personal items from Papetoon arrived here on the Vanguard this morning. Amongst the items was a digital picture frame, cracked and seemingly broken. I sent it to the technicians to see if it could be fixed."_

_"I assume it was repaired. What exactly was on this picture frame?"_

_"There were over twenty pictures loaded but only this one provided any new intel. Well…perhaps you better see for yourself, sir. I took the liberty of bringing it here for your attention."_

_The admiral's grip tightened around it. In the dull, flickering image, a proud Andross stood in his military uniform with the Papetoon hangar in the background, each arm wrapped around the shoulders of grinning compatriots. The faces were easily recognizable: each one had been plastered on the news for their fifteen minutes of fame following their supposed deaths years ago. They ere faces that no one in the galaxy would ever think to see together. But before McGarret's eyes, like a trick of perception that refused to correct itself, stood Andross with James and Vixy McCloud._

_

* * *

  
_

Fox swallowed as the voice continued in his ear.

"Do you remember when I gave you that tiny metal Arwing? I was late a day coming home because I met with a promising scientist and biological technician named Andross. He showed me his work and I was fascinated. He liked my work as well because he wanted to sign me on as head of security for an ambitious project of his. He hated the governmental constraints of Corneria and wanted to colonize Venom. I thought he was crazy at first but the man was a genius. I don't have to tell you that; you know for yourself. He outlined his plan and…and he offered more money than I ever expected to make in my entire life.

"He liked your mother's work as well. You never knew this but I first met your mother because she was a marvelous technician and helped maintain some of the ships Starfox flew before the Arwing. When we were married she still helped Starfox but we kept it secret because I feared for her safety. I had lots of enemies, ones who knew to go for the heart. With the money Andross offered to bring her on board as a technician as well…money blinded us. I make no excuses. Our greed controlled us.

"Starfox would be blackballed by the Cornerian government if they knew we were helping a rogue scientist so we did the stupidest thing of our lives. We put money before our son. We faked your mother's death and sent her to help Andross design and oversee construction of the first Venomian settlement while I stayed with you and worked with Starfox. Finally, when Andross' operations were complete, he called for me to join him. That's when everything went wrong. I had been checking in on an Arwing facility codenamed Papetoon on Titania over the years and I witnessed Andross' hunger for power grow. He wanted a military, a big one. By the time he called for me I wanted out but he threatened to kill you. So I went."

Fox's knees felt shaky. The heat and stinging sand around him no longer affected him. He wanted to stop listening but he couldn't.

"Andross had been busy. He knew how to go for the heart as well. Your mother had been seduced by his maniacal plans and wanted to stay by his side. She and Andross no longer trusted me or wanted me around. Your mother was dead to me the day I discovered that she considered that insane ape her new husband. I could no longer live knowing that I had helped start an inevitable war. So I did all I could. I sabotaged the Papetoon facility and destroyed Andross' trump card: the Arwings. That act is not enough to redeem me; nothing ever could. But it was all I could do. Wanted dead by Andross and Vixy and believed deceased by Corneria, I hid. I survived on my own during the war, too ashamed and afraid to be discovered to fight.

"Until you did what I couldn't. You faced Andross. When news spread that you had reached Venom I did all I could to get to you in time. I'm only thankful that I could do one last good thing by saving the life of the son I put through so much pain. But now Andross and my former wife are dead. I can never face you. So I'll let Venom kill me with its elements.

"I'm proud of you, Fox, my son, and I always loved you. But you must promise me one thing. If you did not take this recording off-planet, if you are still on Venom listening to it…run. Never come back here, never come back to this evil planet. Run! Now!"

The recording ended. Fox let the device slip through his trembling fingers and all to the sand. His mind was blank; he was afraid to let anything in.

* * *

_"Ah! You hear that, Dagger man?! That's the sound of death! This satellite's gonna start a rockin' and a shakin'! Please fasten your seatbelts and stow all belongings! Hold on to something, sister!"_

_"I got my big, strong Dagger man here to hold on to! Don't be afraid, sweetie. The big blue beam of death is going away from us. I sort of like Bolse better this way. A satellite and cannon all in one!"_

_"You think Dianus will sell it to us when she's done? We could use a summer home. After all, we have our guest here to entertain now."_

_The twins' high-pitched laugh was soon drowned out by the deafening sound of accumulating power._

_

* * *

  
_

"Fox, I'm getting some strange readings from Venom's orbit."

Fox took a few breaths and composed himself as best he could. He cleared his throat, glanced up to where the Great Fox hovered in the lower atmosphere and said, "I'm coming up."

"Wait a minute…something's wrong…"

With a sudden flash, a bright light appeared in the stratosphere. Before Fox could react, a blue beam of planetary bombardment power struck the Great Fox. The massive ship reeled, most of the upper left wing incinerated. Fox was thrown to the sand, blinking away the harsh light. The Great Fox steadied itself but the port hull smoked profusely.

"Holy shit," Fox cursed. He put his hand to his ear. "Slippy, are you alright? Get the hell out of here! Go!"

"Yeah…I'm, uh…my head…systems have been hit hard." A few moments of sparks and static. "Oh, God…oh, God, Fox power readouts are spiking again. Help…please, God, help me…I think it's going to—"

The sky lit again like a fuse. Another beam struck the Great Fox, this time directly on top. The beam cut through like a laser through cardboard, forming a crater in the planet beneath it. The Great Fox yawed and swooned like a man stabbed in the throat, dead and just not aware of it yet. Fire and explosions broke out all through the ship.

"Slippy! Slippy, come in! Try to land and—"

One last massive explosion ripped through the Great Fox, severing the "neck" section and sending the bridge crashing to the desert in a fiery ball. Fox sank to his knees and watched in horror as Dianus' fake video came to life before him in the form of a living nightmare. He could only watch helplessly as the rest of the Great Fox crashed to Venom, sending a shockwave of sand washing over him. When it all cleared, smoke billowed up into the dark atmosphere from the mountain of twisted, fiery metal.

Fox raised an unsteady finger to his ear and whispered, "Slippy?" Static. He expected nothing more. "Slippy?"

He felt nothing, not even the feeling that he was still in his own body. For the longest time he could only stare at the burning wreckage, letting the cruel sands of Venom wash over him.

* * *

She stood in a dark room, gazing from her high window at the beautiful landscape of Venom's vast deserts. She could stare at them all day and night if time allowed, but the pleasures of life must be rationed sparingly if they are to be appreciated fully. She couldn't see smoke but she saw the flash of Bolse's first successful test. Soon, she heard footsteps on the marble behind her and sensed another's presence.

"Is it done?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am. The weapon's effectiveness against the capital ships is superlative. We've also received word that the Dagger intruder was captured by Hellion."

"Good." She breathed through her nose and held it for a brief while. "For a moment, General, when I knew the Great Fox was once again on Venom, I remembered something from so long ago."

"What's that, ma'am?"

She raised her left hand, looked at it for a moment, "I remembered a time before my beloved Venom needed me to be Dianus, a time I can barely recall because it seems like another life. I remembered a time when I was simply Vixy McCloud."

-

_-Chapter 9 coming soon-_


	13. A Soldier's Rise: 3

[Author's Note: I felt there needed to be a bit of a pause between last chapter and the next, given the main twist's uncovering. The subject of this Soldier's Rise interlude seems natural given the plot  
circumstances and the ongoing conflict between Gage and Hellion. Also shows Gage as a younger captain, physically and mentally. Hope you enjoy! -Foxmerc]

-

**A Soldier's Rise**

The Artemis Thirteen Incident

-

All activity in the space station hangar halted when the red emergency lights on either side of the airlock began flashing. Police stopped speculating, reporters stopped speaking, and the few civilians that remained stopped wandering. The wide airlock shutter rose to the low buzzing of alarms, finally allowing three figures entry into the outer hangar. Their presence revitalized the cold metal environment, giving the reporters something to focus on and the civilians something to ease their worry. Garbed in gray digital camouflage, black load-bearing gear, and expressions of steel, they exuded a presence of strength that had not yet been seen since the crisis began.

The three soldiers walked to the metal folding table that served as the station police's command post and dropped their bags to the floor. An elderly and modestly overweight raccoon in a musty white security uniform turned from the table and looked them up and down. The cloudy silver name pin on his breast pocket read "Haggman."

"You the SWAT team Katina PD sent us?" Haggman asked with a grunt.

"That's us." The soldier with captain's bars extended his hand. "Captain Gage Birse. The wolf to my left is Sergeant DeLaine and the leopardess is Corporal Ley."

Haggman grunted again and shook the fox's hand once. "I'll cut through the bull 'cause I don't think we have much time. Tell me what you need to know to get my station back in working order."

Gage nodded; he appreciated a man who got down to business. "Let's start with the basics; give me everything relevant about the station."

"This here's Artemis Thirteen, second largest space station in Katinian orbit. Serves mostly as a trade post and glorified outpost for travelers. We have a dozen taverns, four decks of merchants and spacecraft service technicians, and accommodations for two thousand guests at a time…provided they don't take offense to seedy rooms and more muggers than we have cells for. Ain't all bad, though. Our merchants conduct more business and attract more pilots than any station in the sector. Plenty of upscale business."

"So what's the situation?" Gage asked. "All the scum finally catch up with you?"

"No." Haggman pulled a soiled handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his forehead. "It's Hellion. I wouldn't have believed it myself but their damn monstrosity of a ship is docked on the other side of the station."

"Hellion." The fox mulled the name over. "The twin tigers, Ares and Eris? Aren't they just a group of pirates?"

"More'n that. They're like no creatures I ever seen. Mad, you hear me? Insane. You just got to look in their eyes and you'll know."

Gage rolled his eyes. If there was one thing about his job he found annoying it was dealing with supposed law enforcers afraid of their own shadows and seeing monsters in common criminals. "Just tell me the situation."

Haggman stepped aside and pointed at the blueprints on the metal table. They showed each deck in turn, with the lower deck marred by black marker circles and lines. "The Hellion twins have fourteen hostages on the lower deck: two of my security officers and twelve station visitors. They mentioned explosives. They're threatening to kill the hostages if they don't get what they want."

"Which is what, exactly?"

Haggman cleared his throat. "A constellation named after them, Cornerian currency with their faces on it, and the first born sons of everyone on Katina with the letter H in their last name, all within the next hour."

"Smokescreen," DeLaine piped in flatly from behind his captain.

Gage nodded. "They're either escaped mental patients or they're not here for any material gain. They're going to do what they came here to do regardless of demands, since what they want is obviously impossible. How many are there? Just Ares and Eris?"

"No," the raccoon replied, his eyes narrow in thought. "I don't know, really. Some of my men say there were at least seven others with them, probably just hired for this job. There's no way to tell now; they destroyed the security feed for the lower deck."

"I'd be disappointed if they didn't." The captain turned to his two teammates and gestured down to the bags. "Close quarters suppressed. Thermals, flashbangs, light load." As the two knelt and started on the bags, he turned back to the security chief. "Give us ten minutes to study the blueprints and coordinate with our other men who entered by way of the far hangar. We'll move out at 1412 to secure the hostages. In the meantime, keep the reporters over there busy and try not to let them focus on us too much."

"Uh…alright then." Haggman straightened his red tie and wiped his forehead once more. With a simple nod, he left the three soldiers to their business. "Good luck, Captain Birse."

Gage gave a little grin. "Tell that to Hellion."

-

* * *

-

"Dagger One to Dagger Two. You read me, Hart?"

_"Read you, sir. I have Tien working in the Deck Four access hatch lock now. I hope Braddock can fit through the porthole."_

Gage chuckled and stole another glance around the corner at the dormant elevator fifty yards away, past deserted merchant stalls and flickering neon signs. The air in the empty market deck held a lingering odor of questionable food and stale recycled air. "Let me know when you're ready to make entry. Infiltration speed, silencers on. Avoid engagement until necessary."

"You think Ares and Eris are a substantial threat?" Ley asked from behind him.

"No, but we're going in blind. I want targets confirmed. Show these nutjob pirate wannabes how we fight in the big leagues."

A low grunt sounded from beside Ley. DeLaine, his rough gray wolf fur blending in with the metal, crouched with his back against the wall. His eyes were distant, staring past his upright marksman rifle at nothing. "If we truly want the media to believe we're Katina PD SWAT then this mission must fail, preferably with one of us injured from friendly fire."

Ley rolled her eyes. "Easy for the marksman to suggest, he's the one behind the rest of us."

"With the way you've been shooting recently you'll probably still end up hitting me."

Ley responded by kicking the butt of the upended rifle.

"Hey!" Gage hissed. "I know none of us are happy to be sent up here to deal with a couple dinky pirates but let's not make this side job the one we fuck up. Get your heads in the game, now!"

The leopardess' face hardened and she straightened up, silenced machine pistol steady in her hands. "Yes, sir."

Gage doubted that DeLaine's head was ever not in the game. The sergeant straightened his rifle again and held it as one would hold a lover: gentle but firm, with respect and care and mutual understanding. Like a lover, the gun could either be his saving grace or the cause of tragedy. The wolf himself seemed to reflect the tentative balance in his demeanor; though his previous jabs had been meant in a facetious way his face never changed from its grim mask nor did his baritone voice ever fluctuate. The members of Dagger knew him well but anyone else would be left forever wondering when he joked, when he was serious, and if he ever even cracked a grin.

Ley could also leave people wondering but for a different reason altogether. As recon and light assault, the leopardess was often on her own ahead of the team, scouting, spying, and thinning the enemy herd with quiet efficiency. With her nose buried in enemy territory, a quick word, false accent, or shameless fanning of her eyelashes would save her life more often than a gun. She had the ability to be vibrantly jubilant, sad enough to evoke sympathy from a Venomian assassin, or anything in between that the mission might call for, all with equal effectiveness. Her best act of all was that of a shadow, slipping quietly and lithely in and out of view until the time came for that shadow to strike an unaware enemy. It was for these reasons that when splitting the team became necessary Gage led Ley and DeLaine and Hart led heavy weapons master Braddock and electronics/demolitions wizard Tien: versatility.

_"This is Two. Hatch breached. Immediate area clear."_

"Copy," Gage replied. "Hold position until we've descended to Deck Four."

The three soldiers crossed the market toward the closed elevator. Gage wedged his fingers between the doors where they met in the middle and pulled; only a slight effort was needed before the hydraulics kicked in and the door slid the rest of the way themselves. He leaned into the dark shaft and looked down then up. The elevator car hung a level above them while the shaft dropped three floors below; not far enough to cause feelings of vertigo but certainly enough to warrant caution. Gage gave a simple tugging hand gesture and his two comrades joined him at the edge of the shaft. Letting their weapons dangle from their slings, they hooked rappel lines into the door guidance track above their heads and descended into the darkness. Hands loose and boots braced against the wall with care, they made as little noise as possible, of no more concern than a rat in the pipelines.

Upon touching down at the bottom of the shaft, they each unhooked and swung their weapons into action again. Gage whispered, "HUDs up" and flicked his own eye-HUD from its brace around his left ear to over his left eye. The illuminated transparent display came to life with a soft orange glow, unobtrusive text cycling quickly as the startup diagnostic concluded. As a standard test of target designation and IFF calibration, Gage glanced at each of his teammates in turn: their bodies became outlined in blue luminescence as long as his eye was on them, with a small list of their height, gender, distance, and any recognized military gear or weapons beside the silhouette. The blue border confirmed that the IFF transmitter/receiver that each Dagger member had implanted in his lower back was functional, marking them as friendly. Ley and DeLaine gave him a thumbs-up once their own eyepieces checked out.

"Ley, check it," Gage ordered.

The leopardess approached the closed doors and produced a snake cam from her vest. She maneuvered the thin, flexible optic camera between the doors and studied the feed on her HUD for the next half-minute. She then pulled it in and stepped back. "Nothing, sir. No guards, no tripwires on the door. It's pretty open, same floor plan as the market upstairs but mostly stacked crates and barrels. Storage and unloading space for the rear hangar, most likely."

"That's where their ship the Hellraiser is docked. We don't have a blockade in place yet but if they try to retreat to the ship and get away the station's defense turrets can take it out…assuming they don't take hostages aboard. We have to hit them fast before they can think of doing that."

"Odd," DeLaine muttered.

Gage glanced over his shoulder. "What?"

"No tripwires on the door, no motion sensors, no guards, not even a tin can on a string."

"I thought of that, too. Could be an ambush waiting for us, could be they're scared and not thinking straight." The fox put his hand to his ear. "Two, report."

_"We've made it to the maintenance access hatch leading into the rear hangar. The door's unlocked. Tien's got a snake cam in there now. Stand by." _After another minute of silence, Hart's voice rose again. _"Found the objective, sir. The hostages are in the outer hangar, the customs area, a few hundred feet in diameter. Tien reports that the hostages are handcuffed to pipes and cable enclosures on the back wall near the door leading to the hangar. They look to be gagged and blindfolded with torn cloth."_

"Are all fourteen hostages there?"

_"Can't say. Our angle to the side shows eight but we can only see half the room. Stand by, sir." _Another few silent moments. _"Possible ID on one of the twins. A tiger is leaning over by the hostages, fiddling with something on the wall. Can't tell what."_

"Hart, prepare for breach. Flashbangs on my go. Use caution, intel suggests that's most likely a bomb." Gage pried the doors open as he did the others and signaled for Ley and DeLaine to fall in behind him. They moved swiftly through the storage area, weapons shouldered, each one covering an angle. Upon entering a twist of cold metal corridors, Gage became more concerned that they hadn't encountered even a single guard. It became more and more unlikely that the twins were simply prone to terrible tactics; not even pirates were this careless.

Finally, at the end of the corridors housing the shipping/receiving clerk offices, they came to a door marked "Customs." Gage gave the "stack up" hand signal, prompting Ley and DeLaine to flatten against the wall on either side of the door while he took position before it. Following another hand signal, Ley placed a small breaching charge on the hydraulic twist-handle of the door while DeLaine held a flashbang at the ready.

"This is One. Breach in five."

Gage steadied his breath and followed Ley's fingers as they counted the seconds down. At "one," he averted his eyes. The blast tore the door away and sprung it open, allowing DeLaine to toss in the flashbang. After the familiar sound of the magnesium explosion, Gage opened his eyes and burst into the room, assault rifle's sight before his eye. His HUD lit up like downtown Corneria City at night, neutral white borders surrounding the captive civilians. However, with the pirates possibly not using preprogrammed Venomian gear that would set off a red enemy border, each white silhouette was a possible threat. Nonetheless, it helped identify them through the wispy residue of the flashbangs.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gage noticed Hart's team storm the room from the maintenance door to the left, led by the tall raccoon himself. They converged in the middle and approached the wall where the civilians had been handcuffed. As they neared it, Gage scanned the hostages, most of who were struggling and making muffled noises through the gags due to the sudden chaotic activity. Most were men and women in work clothes, some sporting emblems of shipping companies or vessels. Gage could not spot the two missing guardsmen though he discovered something more disturbing: a young hostage who could have been no more than seven years old. He was a young feline with sand colored fur, on his knees and burying his head in his arms. He had no gag or blindfold and only one wrist was cuffed to the wall, unlike the others. Judging from the identical race and fur color of the female hostage beside him, Gage guessed they were mother and son.

"Captain."

Gage nodded to Hart and gestured towards the child. The flashbangs, harmless to healthy adults, could have had effects on him. "Ley, check him out." The fox then joined Hart who was aiming his rifle at the crouching tiger. The entire entry seemed to have no effect on the tiger; he still stayed crouched facing the wall.

"Cover me," Gage said. His own weapon trained on the tiger's upper back, he stepped forward with care until he was within arm's length. He reached out, grabbed the tiger's shoulder, and attempted to spin him around. The tiger's wrists, cuffed before him around a low pipe, stopped him. The face looked up, staring at Gage with quivering, sweaty fear. He wasn't one of the twins.

"They…they…" The tiger swallowed. "They said they'd kill me if I looked back."

"Smokescreen," DeLaine repeated

Gage nodded. "You're safe now. Ley, start picking these cuffs. Tien, scan for explosives. We breach the hangar as soon as the hostages are evacuated."

Tien, himself a tiger though one of much darker color tones than the twins, was already on the job, his head slowly swiveling while his HUD checked for explosive compounds. "Sir?" His eyes were locked on a lizard wearing a jacket with the hood over his head. "I'm picking up readings of cyclotrimethylene from him."

Gage turned to the hostage and frowned, his brow furrowed in concentration. The lizard was not struggling at all and his head was bowed. As the captain neared, he noticed that the hostage's clothes were too small for him and his shoulders were arched back in a strange angle. Gage flipped the hood back and lifted the lizard's head only to be greeted from dead, bloodshot eyes. A thin cord was wound around the neck and tied to the pipe, propping him up. Worst of all, the jaw had been dislocated and pulled nearly to the collarbone to make room for a crude bomb that had been shoved in the mouth and halfway down the throat. Gage could make out a faint beep counting down the seconds.

"Dear God," he breathed. "Tien, get over here."

The tiger stuck his face right next to the lizard's dead maw. "This is heavy stuff. It's jammed in there good, I'll have to cut the head off to defuse it. As long as the beeping remains constant we have at least fifteen seconds. Hand me the—"

As if to accent the cruelty of the twins' trap, the counter chose that moment to double the rhythm of the beeps. Tien looked at Gage with a sudden rise of concern. "Fifteen seconds."

Gage blinked. "Ley, get the hostages—" He looked over and saw an equally shocked leopardess in the midst of freeing only the second hostage. The child stood beside her with tear-stained cheeks.

"Sir!" DeLaine pulled Gage toward the exit. "We have to leave now or we all die!"

"No! We can't—" Gage stopped. The surreal, nightmarish turn the mission had taken in the blink of an eye washed over him but he maintained a cool head. He gave the worst order of his life. "Fall back! Get to the storage area!"

Gage tore his eyes away from the panicked hostages and took the child in his arms. He followed his team out the way he came in and made it through the doorway just as the bomb went off. The explosion deafened him and threw him to the floor. His head swam and threatened to fall into unconsciousness but he fought it and rose to his feet just as another explosion tore through the station behind him. Another bomb, with more likely to follow.

"Gage!" Hart had doubled back and pulled his captain to his feet. "Come on!"

Gage felt rushing air and glanced back. The hangar door had been damaged, the vacuum of space pulling from behind it. His heart racing, Gage took the child's hand again as another explosion rocked the station. Before the fox could react, Hart was pulled off his feet and careened back into the customs room where the red-misted air was being sucked into space with the rest of the debris from the explosions. Keeping a hand braced against the wall, Gage took a step back into the room to retrieve Hart but stopped and stared in silent shock. The vacuum had pulled his second in command back with enough force to impale him on the growing pile of twisted metal being sucked through the breach in the door. The raccoon blinked and his glassy eyes looked down at the metal protruding from his abdomen. A peace seemed to come over him, a soldier uniting with the death he knew would eventually come. Gage took one more desperate step to see if he could get to him before a chain explosion from the pipes engulfed the room in fire.

"God damn it!" he roared, his voice lost in the rush of air and rumble of explosions. He lifted the child into his arms and ran through the corridors. Blaring alarms and swirling red lights activated as pressure dropped further. At last, he came to the storage area where the automatic isolation system had begun lowering a pressure door. His team waited near the elevator, beckoning him to hurry. After he crossed the room separation threshold, Tien turned to the panel on the wall, activated manual override, and brought the door down faster, finally cutting off the deathly pull of vacuum. With a final quake and sound of distant thunder, the explosions subsided.

Still trying to catch his breath, Gage fell to his knees and brought his hand to his ear. "This is Captain Birse. Haggman, are you there? Fire on the Hellraiser! Send those sick fucks to hell!"

Silence.

"Haggman? Do you read?"

_"Why, hello there. Captain Birse, is it? Wow, Dagger came all the way out here for little old us. We're honored, right, sister?"_

_"Very honored! Did you guys meet our party guests down there? One of them ate something his stomach didn't agree with."_

A string of maniacal laughter assaulted Gage's ears.

"_Hmm, you know I would put that Haggman guy on but he's got a headache. A laser between the eyes'll do that."_

_"Good thing he sent those other guys after us, brother. I could never fit in this guy's clothes! Did you see those reporters run away screaming? Classic!"_

It all clicked. The security guards were indeed amongst the hostages; the twins switched clothes, the dead lizard with the too-small garments being one of them. Gage could think of nothing to say amidst the insane chatter and laughter on the other end. Finally, his throat chocked with rage, he managed to utter one word. "Why?"

_"Why what, cappy? Oh, the bomb and all? Well me and my sister have outdone every police and military group in the galaxy…except the almighty Dagger. You all with your military training and polished boots and yes-sir no-sir, you think you've seen it all. Well now you've seen chaos. Now you've seen us. What do you think?"_

_"We saw your lieutenant when we reactivated the camera feed, Gagey. I was worried we weren't gonna get at least one of you then boom! Down he goes. Quite a show! Let me know when the funeral is and I'll send a nice big bouquet."_

Gage shook like an earthquake, anger rising in him like a violent volcano.

_"Stunned into silence! Well, we'll be on our way then, cappy. Sorry to thrust you into an impossible mission like that, but…it was just too much fun! Thanks for the shuttle, we'll just take that and meet up with the Hellraiser. Don't wait up! Oh, but wait…you never answered my question. Now you've seen us. What do you think?"_

_"Oh, brother, stop hurting poor Gagey's feelings. Take care, Dagger! Feel free to drop in anytime!"_

The laughter haunted Gage as his headset fell silent. He could only kneel in anger and sadness, the surreal conclusion to the mission like a dream he couldn't wake from. He took a few breaths and spoke in a deep, forced-calm tone. "Tien, use the long-range comm. And see if you can get through to Katina Command. "Tell them we have one surviving hostage and need immediate—"

"Gage?" Ley said gently with sad eyes that glanced down at her captain's lap.

Gage looked down and saw red. Blood had spilled onto his uniform from a gaping wound in the child's head. Somewhere between the customs room and the elevator, the explosions and violent jarring had claimed the young feline and Gage hadn't noticed. He propped the child's head up with a blood-soaked hand and found half the fragile young head to be caved in. He placed the body on the metal floor.

"Tell them the mission has failed."

-

-

_-Chapter 9 coming soon-_


	14. StarCrossed

[Author's Note: And after a bit of time with Interlude 3, which I hope shed a bit more light on Hellion and Gage, we're back! Not much to say on this chapter so I'll let it do all the talking. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing and enjoy! -Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 9  
Star-Crossed  
_LDC Vanguard, Bridge  
0904 hours ship time_

_-  
_

"How the hell could this happen?"

Admiral McGarret had been devoured by that one question for the past fifteen hours, since the moment he was bombarded with the horrible news. Speaking it aloud to the busy Vanguard bridge didn't help. All within the same hour he had learned that Gage Birse was missing in action while infiltrating what had been confirmed as an anti-capital ship platform built within the old Bolse station, which had managed to shoot down the Great Fox. Gage was missing and presumed captured by Hellion, Slippy was missing and presumed dead, and Fox was simply missing. The only evidence McGarret had received attesting to Fox's survival was the faint signature trace of an Arwing leaving Venom airspace. And once again, Dianus proved to be one step ahead and colder than ever in her execution. Few instances in the admiral's military career compared to the maelstrom at hand.

The old wolf had sat in his overwatch chair for hours on end, staring out the massive bridge window into space and waiting for any new information from the overworked crew. The high-pitched tone of the chair's folding monitor startled him as it sounded and showed the bridge door guard on-screen.

"Sir, Falco Lombardi wants to see you. Miss Sherwood and the freelancer as well."

McGarret sighed. Any other time he would have sent them away but after dealing with ensigns and crewmen all day perhaps he could use a change. He couldn't keep them in the dark forever, in any case. "Send them in, corporal."

The avian stormed the chair and hovered over it like a furious storm cloud; McGarret didn't need to look up to know he was there. "Where the hell is my team?"

"Missing."

"Don't feed me that bullshit! I gave your damn lackeys everything I know about the Bolse mission and Gage and you're not gonna tell me about my team?!"

McGarret swiveled the chair towards Falco and folded his hands beneath his muzzle. Fara and Krystal had only just caught up, both with concerned looks though the latter showed it more blatantly. He had given many families many notices of relatives killed in action but it was one military job that never became easier. "Surely you noticed the heavy battery that had been built into the husk of the Bolse station. It fired upon the Great Fox and destroyed it. We believe Slippy Toad was killed. Fox was logged as on the surface at the time; he's still missing. We have no idea what they found on Venom, if anything. It all could have just been a trap."

Falco's beak snapped shut and his eyes grew hazy. He only stared for over a minute; a blink now and then, a shadow passing over his brow. In those few moments of stunned pain, McGarret saw the only genuine face he had ever witnessed on Falco. That, coupled with the heavily bandaged arm from Gage's pistol shot, seemed to embody the general mood of the ship: emotional and spiritual pain, undoubtedly just as Dianus would want. Without a word, the avian turned and left the bridge.

Kristine Sherwood stepped forward, her eyes wide and gripped with worry. "Admiral…"

"Miss Sherwood, you really shouldn't be part of this. You shouldn't even be out of the living quarters."

"I know and I promise I'll go back there and not run away from the guards you gave me again but I really, really need to know about Gage. I know something happened but no one's saying what." She clasped her hands in a praying gesture. "Please please please."

"Miss Sherwood…" McGarret stopped what he was going to say and thought better of it. Better that she hear it from him than piece together rumors from the crew. "It looks like Gage was taken prisoner by some pirates. We don't know anything beyond that."

"Ohmigod." She buried in her face in her hands and spoke through tears and her own fingers. "I knew something like this would happen. I just knew it."

"He's the toughest soldier I've ever met and he's pulled himself out of plenty of impossible situations. Don't count him out just yet."

"I know." The reassurance didn't seem to help much. She shuffled back a few steps and appeared as if she would fall to her knees before Fara caught her and eased her into a comforting embrace while she cried.

"And you?" McGarret shifted his gaze to the red vixen. "Can I assume I answered your concerns as well?"

"Yes, sir." Her eyes reflected the same pain seen in the other woman but an obviously seasoned demeanor hid it admirably. "I haven't known many people like Fox and Gage. If you need any help in finding or rescuing them, I'll be here."

McGarret strummed his fingertips and pursed his lips for a few seconds. "Tell me, Fara, can you prove your whereabouts aboard the ship for the past few days?"

She softly grunted, expecting such suspicion. "Yes, sir. I know the guard you assigned to me is supposed to be watching me and she's done a great job. I'm sure she can vouch for me along with security camera feeds."

"I don't want to be paranoid but you must understand that I need to take every precaution. Dianus knows a lot and I need to know how she knows. It could be a mole, it could be advanced surveillance and decryption equipment, or it could be a goddamn deck of Tarot cards for all we know. I know you risked your life to help Gage in that Fairington restaurant and I know he doesn't think you're a mole; please just bear with me as I check every angle."

Fara nodded. "I understand, Admiral."

"Can you look after her?" He gestured towards the blue canine.

"Sure. Come on, Kristine. Let's get some tea in the mess hall.

Just as they turned to leave, Fara stopped as the chair's comm beeped again and the voice of an operations controller came over the line. The monitor glowed to life, showing the young feline ensign, his eyes dark with exhaustion. "Sir, I have updates from spacecraft control and the communications hub."

"Go ahead.

"Hangar C1-4 is requesting authorization to admit a special operations vessel from Corneria. It's Dagger."

For the first time in a long while, McGarret allowed a small grin. "There goes the neighborhood. Authorization granted. I'll meet them there myself. What's the update from comms?"

"They, uh…they say they just received an anonymous message regarding Hellion and Captain Birse. A picture, sir."

McGarret felt immediately uneasy; somehow he knew the twins were the type to gloat and taunt about their victory. For the moment he was thankful that they hadn't yet received an arm or heart in the mail. He looked up at Fara, who had stayed to hear the news, and said, "Why don't you two go to the hangar? I'll introduce you to Gage's team; they might help reassure Miss Sherwood."

Fara nodded and reluctantly led Krystal away.

The admiral turned his attention back to the ensign and, with a deep breath to ready himself for what he might see, said, "Send me the picture."

"Yes, sir."

When the picture replaced the feline's face on the screen, McGarret stared for a moment, swallowed, and sighed through his nose. He tapped the print command on the screen and retrieved the materialized picture from a nearby console before leaving the bridge and heading for the hangar.

-

The squad of deckhands preparing the hangar for the ship's arrival snapped to attention when McGarret entered. He quickly saluted the squad leader so they could return to their duties, which mostly consisted of checking and double-checking the critical components like lights, thruster shields, and energy barrier readings. Operations technicians in the control room high above called out orders and affirmations over the echoing loudspeaker.

McGarret joined Krystal and Fara against the rear wall, out of the deckhands' way, and watched as a cold silver ship emerged from the shadow of space and approached the shimmering blue energy field separating the hangar from oblivion. The light frigate eased through the barrier, causing it to spark and backlash gently in an almost beautiful fashion. The general silence of the hangar as the squad waited to receive the ship was broken as the rear engines passed the barrier, shaking the walls with the sudden noise of its power before shutting down in a slow decrescendo. Once the skids hit the landing pad the deckhands scurried to secure the ship.

McGarret gestured for the two women to follow him as he made his way to the ship's aft where the loading ramp had already begun to lower. Once metal connected with metal, two figures descended toward the admiral. He recognized them once light illuminated their faces, not from personal acquaintance but rather from studying the files of every Dagger member during the past week. A fellow wolf touched down first, a green bandana wrapped above his brow and a long, secure rifle case over his shoulder. Keen eyes moved from the admiral to the two ladies and back again before he stood and saluted. A pale yellow leopardess, almost gray in the proper light, stepped next to him, garbed in the same type of black BDUs that Gage had worn around the Vanguard. She joined her teammate in saluting.

"At ease," McGarret said, stealing a glance up the ramp. "Where are the others?"

The leopardess answered flatly. "Specops command didn't feel your request warranted all of Dagger. With Starfox and the Vanguard's tactical superiority, they decided to keep half the team home on Corneria for training and versatile deployment." She grimaced. "I'm sorry, sir, just relaying orders. I hate sounding like bean counters as much as you probably hate hearing from them."

The admiral groaned. "Too bad command doesn't have an update of the situation. Things have changed since you left. We'll talk once you're settled. I'm Admiral McGarret as you've probably guessed. You're Sergeant Ley, recon, correct?"

"Yes, sir, Captain Birse's personal shadow." She grinned a little. "Last time we heard from him he said he was bored stiff up here."

"Yes." McGarret cleared his throat. "And you're Master Sergeant DeLaine, marksman."

"Sir." The younger wolf's face remained unchanged.

"Good. I'd like you both to meet a couple guests of the Vanguard." McGarret gestured for the women to step forward. "This is Fara, a freelancer Gage and Fox rescued from the pirates. She's offered her assistance."

Fara stepped forward and shook their hands, a cordial smile on her face but hesitant in her movements. She seemed intimidated by them and stepped back without a word.

"And you'll probably recognize her. This is Kristine Sherwood, better known as Krystal to…well, everyone else in the galaxy I suppose. Gage rescued her as well."

"Wow," Krystal breathed as she stepped past the admiral and took the soldiers' hands in turn. She seemed comforted just being around Gage's friends. "So you guys are the real deal, huh? Gage talks about his team all the time. It's, like, all that's on his mind. He's always like, Dagger this and mission that and duty this. That's why I like him though, you know? He's all, like, real and genuine. Hey, you guys ever want tickets to a show just say the word. Are you fans?"

DeLaine and Ley exchanged a glance before the latter answered. "Uh…we don't watch a lot of vidscreen. We've heard of you, though. Hear you on the radio sometimes. According to men in our barracks on Corneria, you had quite an interesting presence in a magazine recently."

"Yeah, I kinda liked that one too. The staff was my idea. Hey, is that a gun in that case? You ever kill anyone?"

DeLaine blinked. He glanced around at the others in the room as if expecting it all to be a practical joke. Finally, he muttered, "Once or twice."

"Okay." McGarret placed a hand on Krystal's shoulder and gently eased her away. "We'll have time to chat later. I need to talk to Dagger alone for a few minutes. Fara, can you take Krystal to get that tea now?"

"Sure." Before leaving, the vixen nodded again at Ley and DeLaine. "It was nice meeting you."

When the door slid shut behind the two women, McGarret waved the Dagger soldiers towards him and led them to the side wall, out of earshot of any deckhands. "My men will handle your bags. I'm afraid we need to get right down to business. Undoubtedly you're wondering why Gage isn't here to meet you."

"What happened?" DeLaine asked without missing a beat.

"I trust you've been briefed about this Dianus person who's been harassing the Vanguard. Yesterday, I sent Fox McCloud to investigate a possible enemy Arwing on Venom's surface. At the same time, Captain Birse and Falco Lombardi were sent to recon a surge of activity in the abandoned Bolse satellite. You can read the details in the brief later so I'll be blunt: Dianus has converted Bolse into an anti-capital ship laser platform and she used it to destroy the Great Fox. Fox is still missing, his technician Slippy Toad is dead. Gage infiltrated Bolse and sent us the technical files from the maintenance database but he was captured by some old friends of yours." McGarret produced the folded picture from his pocket and handed it to them. "I'm very sorry."

Ley took the picture and unfolded it. Ares and Eris were immediately recognizable, wide eyed and smiling like children in a family vacation photo. Standing between them was Gage, his hands bound with rusted chain and his top ripped off, revealing a torso and arms marred by many blood-crusted lacerations. His face fared no better but it was harder to see due to his downcast eyes, his expression one of hidden fury. Further study of the picture showed that the three of them stood in a dilapidated delicatessen, complete with a refrigerated display case behind them and a wide menu board on the wall behind it. On the chipped, faded menu board, one of the items had been crossed out with a black marker and replaced with "Captain Gage" in sloppy lettering. The price to the right of the item had also been crossed out, replaced with "6 billion." Below that was written, "In separate pieces, absolutely free!" To top off the sick diorama, Eris held a rusted deli meat slicer near the side of Gage's neck.

"My God," Ley breathed. "Hellion's here? And they have the captain?"

"Yes. Apparently they want six billion credits for his return, which is ludicrous."

"It's meant to be," DeLaine said. "Like Artemis Thirteen. Smokescreen. They'll kill him anyway."

McGarret nodded solemnly. "I wanted Dagger to see this first. I'll put some men on tracing its source or finding out where the hell Hellion could have found an abandoned deli."

Ley looked at the picture again, her brow scrunched and her muzzle pursed as she studied. "I might have an idea. Sir, can I use your archives without security restrictions?"

"Of course. Follow me."

As McGarret took the lead out of the hangar, a hand on his shoulder halted him. He turned to see DeLaine's steely eyes burning a cold fire from under his bandana.

"Sir," he said, "when we find where he is, who do we need clearance from?"

McGarret nodded slowly. Given all that Gage had done for him and his ship, it never even occurred to him that the loyalty would not be paid back in kind. "When the time comes, just tell me what you need."

-

* * *

-

"I looked like a fool in there, didn't I?"

Fara glanced up from her foam cup of coffee but didn't meet Krystal's eyes. The blue canine sat across the mess hall table, nursing a rapidly cooling cup of tea as if it were a double bourbon. While any other time she would have been more than happy to answer truthfully, she didn't want to risk upsetting Krystal's fragile emotional state. "No, not really. Maybe a little loquacious." She couldn't help throwing a word out that she knew the other woman wouldn't know.

"A little what?"

"Chatty. Wordy."

"Oh." Krystal took a sip of the tea. She glanced around and seemed more relieved than usual that not many people were around to gawk at her. "I get that way in front of people sometimes. Especially men. That DeLaine guy was cute."

Fara rolled her eyes at her coffee. "I thought you were chasing Gage."

"I was. But we had a talk and I thought about it and I guess I like him more as a friend. I've never had, like, a true friend. If you ask me, that's a lot more rare than finding just a lover. He got me thinking about what I was doing with my life and whether I was happy and…well, it all seems so trivial right now with him being in the trouble he's in."

Fara nodded slowly. "I figured you'd have him in bed the night he rescued you."

A few moments of silence passed, Fara keeping her eyes down and Krystal following suit. Finally, the latter spoke up. "You don't like me much, do you?"

"You catching on to that?" A glance up at Krystal's hurt expression and Fara felt a twinge of guilt. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm just upset over Gage."

"Oh." Krystal took another sip and spoke softly. "You like him, don't you?"

"Yeah, sure. So do you."

"But you like him as something more. Maybe that's why you don't like me. To tell the truth, I felt the same way about you back when I thought I was falling for him."

Fara blinked in surprise, either from having her feelings brought to the forefront or from having to humbly admit that Krystal could have been right about something. "I…well, yes. I felt attracted to him from the moment I saw him. When we had dinner in Fairington it only grew. When he fought that assassin in the restaurant I couldn't stand staying outside and waiting. I rushed in after him, my own life not even a concern. I never felt that way about anyone before. I never even knew I was able to feel that way."

Krystal grinned a bit. "He's a special guy. Even after all he's been through he's able to be caring to those around him, even an annoying whiny snob like me."

"Oh, come on, you're not that bad. At least not as bad as you were when you first came aboard. Maybe you're getting used to slumming it."

Krystal covered her eyes with her hands. "Ohmigod, don't say that. You have no idea what I'd give to be home again. My swimming pools, my mansion on Corneria…the one on Katina…the other one on Corneria. The cars, the thrill of the concerts and photo shoots, the tea served in priceless mugs instead of foam cups. Oh, to taste actual food again!"

Fara chuckled. "I was wrong, you're still as just as bad."

"What about you? Don't you have a home somewhere?"

"Not really," the vixen answered quickly. "Listen, I didn't get much sleep last night. Let me walk you to your room and then I'm going to take a nap. We can pick this conversation up later."

"Oh…well, okay then." Krystal finished what was left in her cup and stood. "You don't have to escort me around if you don't want to."

"The admiral wants me to make sure you're okay. It's no trouble."

The familiar walk to the living quarters was mostly quiet, with a comment or two here and there about the ship or other small matters. Krystal, as always, offered a smile and wave of greeting to any soldier that looked at her in surprise or awe; given the ship's size, many of the crew still hadn't seen her and those who had did not mind a second encounter. It made her feel good to lighten their moods such that they approached her with glum faces and walked away with a smile.

"Home sweet home," Fara said when they arrived at her room. She followed Krystal in and looked around at the cold metal walls which the blue canine had tried to spruce up with her colorful clothes hanging from hooks. "Hard to imagine someone like you in a room like this."

"Gage said something like that, too. You're all so weird. They actually just moved me here from a smaller room." Krystal kicked off her shoes and checked herself in the wall mirror. She leaned close to it and checked every angle of her face and neck. "Oh, great. That's all I need. Hey, this is kind of embarrassing but can I ask a big favor?"

"You can ask."

"My fur dye is starting to dull and flake. I should've redone it awhile ago but I was hoping to be off the ship by now. I usually have like three assistants help me with it but…well, like, can you help? I just can't reach my back. It's no biggie, I just take a shower with this special soap that dissolves the dye and then reapply it. Like an hour, max."

Fara cocked an eyebrow. "You want me to dye your back."

"Yeah, that's about it. Pretty please? We can be friends now that relationships with Gage aren't an issue, right?"

"One step at a time. Fine, I'll do the dye thing. Make it snappy."

"Great, thanks." Krystal pulled her shirt off, replaced it with her robe, and cinched it shut before undressing underneath it. "There's just one thing. I'll do most of it in the shower after I strip off the dead coat and dry off. Then I'll come out and you have to reach under my robe and apply the rest. Okay?"

"Wait, what? Why? You don't strike me as the physically shy type."

"It's not that, I just…" Krystal hesitated. "I don't want anyone to know my true fur color. It's ugly. I'm hideous without the blue dye."

"Whatever it is it can't be that bad. I won't tell anyone."

"No," Krystal said in the sternest tone Fara had yet heard from her. "Please. I really, really can't let anyone see. Only my assistants know and they're all under legally binding contracts not to tell anyone. It's important to me. If people knew my real looks my career would be over."

Fara shrugged. "Okay, if it's that big a deal then fine."

"Great. Thanks."

One part of the room that made it marginally better than normal crew quarters was the private shower, though the small bare-bones setup separated by a clouded glass door was hardly luxurious. However, when faced with the alternative of the communal showers down the corridor Krystal found the willpower to use the less than pristine accommodations. She stepped inside, tossed her robe so it draped over the door, and soon the room was filled with steam and the rush of running water. Fara moseyed around the room, making faces at some of the lavish articles of clothing. She stopped by the sink in front of the mirror and studied one of the canisters of blue dye.

"So you wear this stuff literally all the time?" Fara called over the water.

"Yeah," came the muffled reply. "Ever since I was seven and did a commercial where I played an alien. The look just stuck."

"When was the last time you actually looked in the mirror with none of this gunk on?"

No response. Fara thought her question might not have been heard and was about to repeat it when Krystal responded. "When I was seven." She remained silent for another few moments. "Seventeen years."

"Really? Wow."

"Everyone said I looked so pretty, that the blue was wild and different and sexy…well they added that last part when I was older. I went from commercials to modeling and guest spots as a singer. I love singing. My agents wanted me to just model; the singing was my idea. I wanted to do it as my primary focus and they seemed happy with it as long as I sexed it up enough."

"Well, I think you hit that nail on the head." Fara put the can back down on the edge of the sink. "Didn't you mention that Gage got you thinking about what you were doing? What, you're not happy doing what you're doing?"

A short silence as Krystal pointed her nose at the shower head and rubbed her muzzle and face. "I don't know. I, like, really love the attention, I admit it. But remember that night when Gage told us the story of how he escaped that prison camp? I came out of there thinking…wow, there's a guy who knows what he's doing. The things he does really, like, matter. No one will ever know he did them but they matter more than what I do and I make like a trillion credits more than him."

"He doesn't care about money."

"I know, that's what's so amazing. I want to do something that matters, too. But all I can do is look sexy and sing, and I don't even know if I can sing all that well even though I love doing it. I wish I had Gage's guts and confidence. Hey, hand me a towel."

Fara retrieved a fuchsia-colored towel from the wall locker and tossed it over the door. "You know, it could be pretty hard to have confidence when you haven't even seen your true reflection in seventeen years."

Krystal's silhouette showed her vigorously drying off. "I told you, I'm ugly without the dye. I was nobody without it on. The only time anyone every paid attention to me was when I had the dye on. So why bother ever taking it off?"

"Look, I'm not going to try and analyze you here but I know a few things from experience. Some people have stage names or writing names or mercenary personas, but you've completely absorbed yours. Everything about you is a cover; Krystal instead of Kristine, blue instead of whatever real color you are, sex and money instead of just singing. The only thing you can't hide with a foolproof cover is how you feel about it all."

"Hey, look, you don't know what it's like. Nobody wants boring, ugly non-blue Kristine and I learned to accept that. I didn't say I hate my life I said Gage just got me wondering. Yeesh. Can you give me one of the dye cans?"

Fara picked up a can and rolled it around in her palm. "You said Gage is a friend and that's why he brought that up, right? To help?"

"Yeah."

"And you said that we can be friends now that Gage isn't between us, right?"

"Sure, I'd like that. Where's the dye?"

"Consider this my first friendly act." Fara unscrewed the top of the can and poured the dye down the sink drain, globs of blue ooze falling out with a sickly sucking sound. She turned the faucet on to ensure it all washed down.

"What are you doing? What's that sound?" After the sound of another can opening, Krystal caught on. "Ohmigod…what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Just trying to be a friend." After the second can had been emptied, Fara unscrewed the third of four and started pouring it out as well.

"Stop it!" Krystal wrung her hands and shivered, helpless behind the clouded glass. She felt the absence of her dye the way an addict longs for a fix but she dared not leave and show herself. She remained trapped in the shower by her own will, on the verge of tears. "How can you do this? This is what I get for talking, for being honest."

"If you didn't want my opinion on some level you wouldn't have been that honest. But don't go having a heart attack, the final decision is still up to you." Fara tossed the empty can with the others and plunked the last can in the middle of the sink, sealed. "There's one can of dye left but you have to come and get it. It's right in front of the mirror. I think after seventeen years you owe Kristine another glance before covering her up again. You can decide whether to do that or not. Who knows? You might answer Gage's question in the process."

Fara walked toward to the door, leaving Krystal trembling in the shower. "Take it from someone who knows; it's difficult being true to yourself, especially when you aren't even sure who you are. But it's worth exploring, whether you find out or not."

The door slid open then shut again. Krystal slowly cracked the shower door and peeked into her room to make sure Fara was gone. Despite the red vixen's absence, she still felt it impossible to walk out into the open looking as she did. With a light, shuddering breath she pulled the glass door shut.

-

* * *

-

"See?" Ley tapped the picture of Gage and Hellion which lay next to the keyboard on the computer workstation before her. "The paint's faded but in the corner of the menu board you can see a logo. I thought it looked familiar; it belongs to 'Borden's Best,' a short-lived convenience store and delicatessen chain based on Zoness. After Andross turned eighty percent of the planet into a toxic waste dump, Borden's went under."

"Not surprising given the beating the planet took," McGarret said, his eyes fixed on the console screen which showed government logs and listings for the deceased company. The archives room had been emptied allowing them privacy to speak of Gage's situation. "The Zoness government is doing an admirable job cleaning up the planet but they've been combating rogues and pirates for years. A mess of them took over the biohazard zones after the war, occupying abandoned cities and towns."

"Right." The leopardess typed another string of keystrokes and brought up a planetary map of Zoness. "Dagger has performed several missions on Zoness; the planet is riddled with ghost towns. People were forced to leave after the biohazard outbreaks brought on by Andross and most of them never moved back. Practically an invitation for squatters. There used to be lots of farmland, quaint towns, stuff from history books; explains the retro look of the deli in the picture. It's a shame; it was probably a beautiful planet."

"It was," McGarret sighed. "So we can be pretty certain we found the right planet. But according to those logs, Borden's had a couple hundred locations. How do we find the right one?"

The leopardess clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and leaned back in thought. "Well, I'm not as good as Tien at coaxing love from a database but I can give it a shot. I suppose we start by eliminating locations that existed in populated areas that are still populated today. Then we can eliminate locations still in biohazard zones, maybe ones near military outposts, then—"

"Check Hellion's history." It was the first input DeLaine had given since the three entered the archives room, though he had been paying rapt attention. "We know them. We know what they want."

"Ah, of course. Let me see here…"

McGarret narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Ley answered for her teammate as she typed. Red dots – Borden's locations – popped up all over the layout of Zoness onscreen. "Well, sir, it's one factor that might give us an edge. Take me for example. Most people I've taken out never saw me coming and I prefer it that way. Same with DeLaine, only he's a mile away when he kills them and I'm closer than their own shadows. Some missions are louder than others, but in general if Dagger does the job right, no one knew we were there except the Angel of Death. Psychos like Hellion aren't like that. They need people to know them and fear them. Most of all, they need their enemies to suffer mentally and know that it's them causing the pain. Like the Artemis Thirteen incident…they could have killed us all in that blast if they planned it better but they wanted us to see the bomb, to know that they were about to kill us. Those precious seconds allowed us to escape the trap…well, most of us. But I guarantee they got plenty of joy from watching us lose a man. See, they wouldn't be able to just shoot an enemy in the back of the head; they'd have to make eye contact so the enemy knew he was about to die by their hands."

McGarret nodded. "That certainly fits what I've read about Ares and Eris. So you're saying wherever they are, it most likely has meaning for them. Or it's a hidden taunt or gloat."

"Possibly. I'm cross-checking Hellion's known offense record with Zoness." The screen became filled with multiple entries. "Plenty there, obviously. Let me see if any of them coincide with Dagger operations." With the new search parameters, only two entries remained. "This first one is a diplomatic escort mission during the war, no incident. This other one is called Operation: Brushfire. Let me have a look."

The room fell silent as Ley opened the file and read, the long report scrolling down every couple minutes. McGarret noticed Ley's face becoming more grim as time passed until she finally finished reading and leaned back again with a long breath.

"I think we found it," the leopardess said. "Five years ago, after the war, Dagger was on loan to the Zoness government to clear out Venomian remnant forces holed up in some of these ghost towns. Some of the Venomians and pirates took to working together and they formed a sizeable base in a ghost town called Redgrove. Dagger infiltrated the town one night, eight hours ahead of the Zonessians. Their orders were to eliminate hostiles and pave the way for the military regulars. Intel was sketchy and when Dagger arrived they discovered fifty or so civilians who had been kidnapped from recently hijacked spacecraft, along with about a hundred more pirates than anticipated. They couldn't break comm silence to call in emergency reinforcements so they sat tight. Soon, the pirates had built a bonfire in the middle of the former town square and started playing sick games with the captive civilians. Dagger had to watch as some were tortured and killed. Finally, the commander – a Captain Terrington - made the call to engage the overwhelming force. With silenced sniper fire and stealth tactics, they killed thirty or so stragglers before the pirates took notice. An intense firefight lasted for a half hour with one civilian killed in the crossfire, along with Captain Terrington. Every Dagger member received at least three wounds. But they won the day." Ley added the last bit with an air of pride.

"Where was Hellion in all that?" McGarret asked.

"According to an addendum at the end of the report, it was only recently discovered that Ares and Eris were members of the pirate gang. Obviously they escaped and struck out on their own. Of the six Dagger operators who went in that night, only Captain Birse and Braddock are still on the team. Terrington was KIA, two others left for command positions, and Hart was killed in the Artemis Thirteen incident. It's pretty interesting reading a mission report of the team that preceded us, eh, DeLaine? Hey, wait, look at this…huh…Captain Birse was actually promoted to captain after this mission due to his valorous performance. He replaced Terrington as Dagger commander. Sort of ironic when you think about it: because of this horrible night, the twins went off on their own as Hellion and Gage was promoted to Dagger commander. Talk about star-crossed fates."

"Sounds like Hellion's style to me," McGarret said with a curt nod. "Gage is a valuable soldier and a good man; I'll spare whatever I can to aid in his recovery. If the twins are set on killing him, we only have as much time as their interest in him allows. I don't need to tell you that they're probably satisfied with their brand of torture for the moment but that could end any time."

Ley nodded. "We don't have time to wait on spy drone imagery. We'll have to recon and adapt on-site. If the captain is there, we'll get him out one way or another."

"Absolutely," DeLaine agreed.

McGarret reached over Ley's shoulder and tapped a few keys. A prompt appeared asking for his pass code, which he entered. "I'm sure Dagger is used to hearing this by now but this mission doesn't exist. It doesn't leave this room. I'm sending you to Redgrove's coordinates to scan for pirate activity. Should Captain Birse happen to miraculously escape, I hope your ship is there to pick him up. I trust I don't need to explain the details."

"With every officer I meet telling me I don't exist, it's no wonder I can't find a date," the leopardess said. "I sure pay a lot of taxes for a nonexistent person though."

The old wolf chuckled. "We all make sacrifices, some more than others. I'll have operations control send the flight plan for your Redgrove 'reconnaissance' mission to your ship's nav system. You have full access to the Vanguard's armory. Is there anything else you need from me?"

Ley thought for a moment and raised her eyebrows at DeLaine, seeing if he could think of anything.

"A pilot," the sniper said, strumming his fingers on his crossed arms. "A good combat pilot and co-pilot."

McGarret frowned a bit. "That could be a bit more difficult. I need Bulldog unit here as long as Dianus is a threat. We have plenty of pilots, but no others with special forces ship infiltration training. StarFox is all but shattered at the moment." A thought entered his mind and he shook his head to dismiss it. But as he ran through his mental list of squadrons, none of which had ever escorted a black ops mission or even had the clearance to do so, he realized he was quickly running out of options. He walked to the comm unit on the wall and touched the summon button. Within moments, the face of the bridge guard appeared. "Corporal, can you please notify Miss Fara that I'd like to see her in the north archives room."

"That won't be necessary, sir. She's been here for the past ten minutes trying to get through but I told her you didn't want to be disturbed, as ordered. Falco Lombardi is here as well."

McGarret looked over his shoulder at the two Dagger soldiers. They exchanged a glance and hesitantly nodded at the admiral. "Send them in, corporal." He flicked the screen off and turned back toward Ley and DeLaine. "Lombardi is a very fine pilot but he was shot in the arm yesterday, not to mention he's not taking the loss of Mister Toad and Fox's disappearance very well."

"We can assess him," DeLaine replied. "If he's too big a risk, then forget it."

"What's the story with this Fara, sir?" Ley asked.

"Gage and Fox rescued her after our initial contact with Dianus' pirates. She provided us with some helpful information but her past is rather shadowy. We can't even find out her last name and either she won't tell us or she doesn't know either. She has a long record as a small-time mercenary and smuggler around Macbeth, Zoness, and Aquas. From what few law enforcement reports the database had on her, it appears she's quite a good pilot and has outmaneuvered military and criminal rivals alike."

The leopardess tapped the side of her muzzle in thought. "Do you trust her?"

"She hasn't given me any reason not to trust her yet. She even aided Gage at the risk of her own life when he was attacked on leave by an assassin. I just wish I knew more about her."

"We can assess her," DeLaine repeated.

A few moments later, the metal door slid open, allowing Fara and a somewhat subdued Falco to enter. The already heavy mood was lowered still by the tragedy that had struck StarFox and left Falco alone on the Vanguard. The avian stepped to Fara's side and met the eyes of both Dagger operators in turn.

"Falco," Ley said in greeting. "Been a while."

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Good to see you again."

"I'm sorry about Slippy."

"Yeah. Good guy. Got on my nerves sometimes but—" The word caught in his throat and he didn't finish the sentence. He swallowed, cleared his throat again, and spoke with a stronger tone. "I want to help with Gage."

"We both do," Fara added.

Falco continued, "I have to do something and I can't help with Fox if I don't know where he is. I want in on anything that hurts this Dianus bitch. Besides, I flew Gage into Bolse and it didn't sit right with me ditching him, even if he did tell me to."

"Mister Lombardi," McGarret replied, "you and Captain Birse were both rather adamant about your dislike for each other. I understand you want to strike back at Dianus' forces but the pilot needs to be calm, detached, and most of all loyal to the mission."

"Hey, we may not be buddies but we both shoot in the same direction."

McGarret looked at Ley and DeLaine. Despite what he thought, he knew a team would operate best if it felt comfortable with its other members. Sometimes it was best to put command and rank aside and let the soldiers choose their path, especially when it came to an independent elite squad like Dagger.

"What about you?" DeLaine's eyes were fixed on Fara.

"Gage saved my life," the vixen said. "I haven't met many people like him. That should be reason enough. I used to smuggle past police checkpoints and outlaw blockades. I know how to be discreet with a ship and, if necessary, how to get out of a firefight. I don't have much experience working with military types so Falco would be the pilot, I'd be co-pilot. We talked about it after I dropped Kristine in her room."

"Is she okay now?" the admiral asked.

Fara hid a grin. "Yeah. Took a long shower."

DeLaine stepped from where he had been standing to the computer workstation and leaned against it, his eyes downcast and meeting those of the sitting leopardess. Though the others expected them to discuss it, they simply looked at each other with a raised eyebrow here, a turn of the lip there, a soft shrug of the shoulders. Finally, after a bit longer of the subtle body language, they nodded in unison.

"When can we leave, sir?" Ley asked the admiral.

"As soon as you're ready." McGarret wondered whether he should pull Ley or DeLaine aside and remind them to be wary of the experienced yet risky pilots but he knew that would be superfluous. As with Gage, he was sure the two Dagger operators studied, watched, and suspected everyone around them at any given time. If there's one thing McGarret had learned from Gage it was to trust the man's abilities. "I'll see what further intel I can dig up on the area and send it to your ship's computer. Good luck, all of you. Bring Gage home."

-

* * *

_Titania, Papetoon Research Facility_  
_1833 hours local time_

-

Fox sat on the wing of his Arwing, his arm draped over the blue port laser cannon shield. Sand and wind whipped at his face but he barely noticed; the setting sun burned his eyes as it lowered itself beneath the dunes and desert rocks, coloring the sky the hue of cooling magma. He had been there for hours, staring at the rock formation in the distance, the same rocks that housed the door marked "Papetoon." He remembered when he was there last, when it was nothing more than an abandoned Venomian research facility. Now, his mind couldn't help but conjure a phantom James McCloud descending the earthen stairway with Vixy and Andross beside him.

"You son of a bitch," Fox muttered under his breath.

Another phantom of James appeared. This one hurried away from the facility, alarms blaring behind him, smoke rising from the stairwell from the bombs that had destroyed the Arwing prototypes. Did this exonerate him? Did this make his father any less a traitor? Perhaps it did. He sought to fix his sins, but after how many lies and traitorous acts? He would never again be seen the same in Fox's mind.

But his mother…

All of Fox's tears, any that he had left, had long been soaked up by the desert sun. He never imagined there could be a worse fate for his mother than her 'death' at the hands of Andross' assassins. He had felt numb for a long time, trying to process that everything he ever knew about his mother was wrong, that any love he ever had for her was misplaced and unfounded. All this time, all during the war, the true enemy he was striving to defeat was a woman who gave him life. The most torturously ironic part, the part that twisted his ethical foundation to the core and made him question every action he had ever taken in life, was that he did it all to make his supposedly dead parents proud and to avenge them.

"Everything I ever believed in is one big lie."

Fox didn't want to hear his voice anymore; it sounded too much like the voice on the recording, James' voice, the voice of the enemy. His name made him sick. The Arwing he sat on made him sick. Knowing the blood in his veins was shared with them made him sick. He didn't want to think about any of it. It was all he could do to not fetch his pistol from the cockpit and end the entire sordid lineage once and for all.

But that wouldn't end it. Dianus…Vixy…still existed. All this time, Fox feared the McCloud family name was dependent on him…one death away from extinction. Now he didn't know how he felt. If he died, the McCloud name would belong to Vixy or die out, taking with it the stain of treachery and evil. If Dianus died, perhaps Fox could retain the honor he earned from and since the war, despite the sins of his parents. The burden weighed heavily upon him and put his heart through a grinder. Everything that ever mattered to him, teetering on the precipice of two moral opposites, one death away from falling.

Fox couldn't bear to think of it anymore. The numbness and shock had worn off and he was left with the weight of the discovery crushing him, calling on him to do something. As dusk crept over the desert, Fox climbed over to the cockpit and opened the canopy. He picked up the pistol on the seat, looked at it for a moment, and shoved it into his leg holster. He lowered himself onto his seat, fired up the power systems, and called a familiar comm frequency. After a few moments, the display activated and an old canine face appeared.

"General Pepper here."

"It's Fox."

Pepper stared for a moment and didn't answer immediately. "Fox…I received the report from the Vanguard. I'm so sorry. Please, if there's any thing I can—"

"I need to see you."

"That's fine, of course. Peppy and his family are staying near the base as well for security; he's been worried sick about you."

"Tell him I'm okay. I just needed some time to myself. I'm going to stop by the Vanguard first to refuel and talk to Gage. He—"

Pepper cleared his throat, loud enough to interrupt Fox. "I suppose you wouldn't have heard. Captain Birse was captured while on a recon mission."

Fox remained silent for nearly a minute, the desert wind whistling in his ears over the open canopy. "I have to go, General. I'll be in touch."

"Please, Fox, take care of yourself."

Fox flicked the screen off. As the canopy closed, he took one last look at the darkening horizon where Papetoon's entrance lay. The mental phantom's weren't there anymore and that scared him most of all. It reminded him that they weren't phantoms at all. Reality was a far greater nightmare than anything that awaited him upon sleeping.

-

**_-Chapter 10 coming soon-_**


	15. The Predators

[Author's Note: Nothing much to say here so I'll just let the chapter speak for itself. Thanks as always to all readers/reviewers. Enjoy! -Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 10  
The Predators  
_Redgrove, Zoness  
2107 hours local time_

_-  
_

It had just begun to drizzle; Gage could feel cool droplets alight on the back of his neck and stream down his fur. He slowly raised his head, eyelids heavy, and saw that night had fallen once again. He had gone at least twenty-four hours without sleep. Though he had gone even as long as three days with no sleep before, Ares and Eris had done all they could to make his time in Redgrove as arduous as possible. As the pirates around the ruined town square begun lighting torches, Gage felt a chill tingle in his spine. He remembered the night before, when he was first brought to Redgrove. The jeering pirates, the prodding with blades, the humiliating picture…not since his pivotal night in the Macbethian POW camp had he felt so powerless.

Finally, when they had finished their gloating rituals, they brought him to the town square. He imagined Redgrove was once a beautiful town, quaint and peaceful; the wood and stone buildings lacked the cold lifelessness of steel and glass and the roads were either dirt or stone. Such an anachronism was nearly impossible to find in all of Lylat and was now closer to impossible thanks to the war's toll. Redgrove and the rural Zonessian towns like it were shells of a more peaceful time. As if purposely desecrating the town's origin, the twins used the wide, circular town square as the pirates' own place of congregation. They stuck Gage up on what remained of a fountain in the middle of the square and chained his hands behind his back, his arms wrapped around the cracked column that once lifted water into the air to cascade back down. There he stayed for hours, neither rest nor reprieve afforded to him.

Until…

"Aw, looks like we're gonna get a little wet."

Gage blinked and realized he was looking down again as horrid memories of the previous night invaded his mind. The steadily increasing rain had begun to wash down his bare chest, thinning the crusted blood from the many lacerations. With some effort, he raised his eyes and saw Ares below him, one foot raised and resting on the concrete dais that bordered the fountain. His face held the same giddy cruelty he and his sister had shown since Bolse.

"I didn't think I'd like hanging around Dianus' pawns but you really brought out the bloodlust in them last night. A little rain won't stop an encore tonight."

Last night…

Gage remembered standing in a circle bordered by the crazed faces of cheering pirates. A sand-furred feline stood before him…young, almost a teenager. The face disappeared behind a cloud of blood.

"You piece of shit," Gage uttered, his throat hoarse.

Another voice; Eris hopped onto the fountain basin and sidled up beside him. She spoke in a mock pout. "Oh, now don't be that way, Gagey." She draped herself over his right shoulder and ran her finger under his neck. "It was your choice after all. When we said one of the boys wanted to fight you to the death, you should'a seen the glint in your eye, the lean, mean fire. You wanted to get out of these chains and rip his throat out more than anything." She craned her neck so her mouth was right by his ear and whispered, "I've never seen anything sexier."

Gage pulled his head away sharply and glared sideways at her. "It's my job to rid the galaxy of filth."

Ares grinned wider. "And you did such a good job."

Gage tried not to think about it again but it was something he would not soon forget. He had known something was wrong the moment the feline stepped into the makeshift gladiatorial ring formed by encircling pirates; he seemed scared, the determination on his face clearly forced. He stepped forward to strike Gage but never got the chance; the fox, his hatred and anger pulsing and subtly driving his honed martial arts, made short work with a series of blows and holds that brought the feline to the ground in four seconds with two broken bones and a bleeding eye. Without missing a beat, he planted a foot on the feline's shoulder and brought his knee down, snapping the loser's neck. The rush of so easily giving a pirate a much-deserved death was short lived; the twins seemed overjoyed at his victory.

"What did you think, Gagey?" Eris whispered, bringing him back to the present. "That we would torture you with just knives and corkscrews? Where's the imagination in that?"

Ares laughed. "We know how your mind works. Mister Savior, fighting the good fight, honor and duty and all that bullshit. Well, Mister Savior, how did it feel last night when you learned that the man you so beautifully tore apart was a captured Cornerian freight pilot? A harmless civilian, one of many you swore to protect."

Eris ran her finger over the cuts on Gage's torso. "I'm sure that scar will stay with you much longer than any of these."

Gage lunged at her, chains rattling as they held him in place. When she nimbly hopped away he spat at her. "Cowards! Spineless goddamn cowards!"

The brother wagged his finger like a teacher scolding a student. "Sticks and stones, Dagger man. We've bested the best in all Lylat so we must be doing something right."

"What are you even trying to accomplish? All you've ever done is set traps and murder. To what end?"

The twin tigers looked at each other with furrowed brows as if waiting for the other to answer. They seemed genuinely confused. Finally, Ares shrugged and replied, "We're just trying to have a little fun. Who says we need a goal? What do we look like, soldiers? Freedom fighters? That's your problem, Dagger man. That's the problem with all you military drones and your 'civilized' worlds. You think everyone's as serious about law and order and killing as you are. If someone takes hostages or hijacks a freighter you think they must have a purpose. That's why your kind will always lose and that's why we love going after you."

While her brother spoke, Eris moved back toward Gage, this time staying behind the fountain column and whispering to him over each shoulder. "We don't want power. We don't want to control Lylat like Dianus or your LDC. We just want to set it on fire and watch you silly little people flail."

The words made Gage's flesh crawl. "You can kill me but Dagger will find you. We're trained to adapt to unorthodox enemies. We've beaten every kind of scum, pirate, mercenary, anarchist—"

"Blah blah blah, words words words." Ares shook his head with a grin. "All I know is it's Hellion two and Dagger zero. I suppose our last encounter at Redgrove was a draw; Dagger managed to take the town but you still couldn't catch us."

"That was a fun night!" Eris squealed, clutching Gage's arms. "You owe us, Gagey. The pirates killed that other captain guy and you got promoted. You should be thanking us."

"That's how I expect you to think," Gage growled.

Ares laughed and gestured for Eris to come to him. "Well, sister, I think it's time we let Redgrove be the graveyard of another Dagger captain."

"Great idea, brother! I'll tell the riff-raff."

As Eris hopped down began shouting, her voice echoing off the buildings around the town square, Ares stepped closer to Gage. With a fiery look in his eyes, he said, "We've proven twice that your training is no match for us. Dianus is a little too serious for my likes; tyrants never know how to relax. But even her entertaining harassment of the Vanguard has proven your inferiority. Why do you keep trying?"

Gage remained silent.

"Tell you what, pal o' mine. I'll make you a deal. I think we both know no one's coming for you; that geezer McGarret has no idea where we are and even if he did, who would he send? StarFox is destroyed and he needs the rest of his peons to fight Dianus. Yup, it's just us out here. And I'm gonna give you a chance to get out with your life."

"I'm not playing your sick little games," Gage muttered.

"Oh, yes you are. One way or another." The tiger stepped next to him, grabbed him under the muzzle, and forcefully lifted his head so his eyes were filled with the spectacle of pirates lighting the damp night with torches and braziers and gathering in front of the fountain. "See them? They want blood. Me and my sister want to watch you suffer. We're all gonna get what we want tonight, one way or another. There's a pirate, goes by the name Sardov. I've seen him fight; he's a pleasure to watch. He doesn't consider an opponent defeated until there are limbs missing. And you're gonna fight him tonight."

Gage chuckled humorlessly. "Right. Just like the 'pirate' last night?"

Ares laughed. "Oh, lighten up! I'm starting to think you don't trust me." He frowned in mock sadness. "You trust me, don't you? At least you can trust your own eyes; one look at that ugly bastard and you'll know he's no civilian or pitiful Cornerian soldier. So here's the deal: you fight him. Me and sis are so sure you can't stand toe-to-toe with him that we'll let you go if you win. That overhyped special forces training of yours just can't cut it when you're down in the dirt with no fancy gadgets, guns, or hiding places."

Gage jerked his head away from the tiger's hand. "You can all go to hell."

"That's not a nice way to talk to the guy offering you a way out. You're going to fight Sardov whether you like it or not. Whether you come out a mangled corpse or a free man is up to you."

The cold drizzle had turned to a steady rainfall, bathing the dark town square in shimmering cacophony. The resilient torches and covered braziers washed the cobblestone ground before the fountain in a dull glow. Further ahead in the darkness, down the main street, more torches illuminated the road and ruined houses the pirates used as their own sleeping quarters, all the way to the gloomy church whose steeple loomed over the town. Though it was at least a few hundred meters away, Gage could make out the steeple in the darkness, silhouetted against the full moon. He was never a religious man but he felt the emptiness of the distant church as he prepared to die under its watch.

Ares had stepped back and disappeared into the rain though Gage could feel the siblings' eyes on him. Four pirates with pistols flanked him as another unlocked the padlock of his chains and pulled the bindings away, letting them fall with a dull clank to the concrete basin. Gage barely had time to stretch his stiff forearms before the pirate kicked him forward, causing him to stumble and fall from the fountain onto the hard cobblestone. He lay facedown on the wet stone for a few moments, letting the myriad raindrops explode around his face, his entire body screaming from the torture and hours of restricted standing. Somewhere in the rushing sound of rain in his ears he heard jeering and chanting; the bloodthirsty thugs would not let him die like this, he knew. Not clean, not quick, not with any honor. He pushed himself to his knees, then to his feet, then raised his head to a mob of hostile faces. He stood in the middle of a wide circle that had been formed by the pirates, just like the night before. The pirates who had guarded him on the fountain still stood on the dais, their eyes fixed on him in case he attacked their brethren or tried to run.

_This is where it ends. Not in noble self-sacrifice, not in defense of my homeland or in pursuit of Corneria's enemies, but soaked and torn up in the cold being spit on by criminals and laughed at by my greatest enemies. _He uttered two words under his breath to finish his thoughts: "Fucking great."

A dull roar rose from the crowd, back where pirates clambered on lamp posts and trucks to get a better view. It surged forward like a wave crashing to shore, cheers and hollers growing ever closer. The pirates parted and allowed him through, a monstrous sight who stepped into the ring before Gage. The black bear, standing over seven feet tall, glared down at the fox past scars and bristled fur. The cargo pants and ratty tank top did nothing to hide the mass of muscles and gashes from numerous fights. Ares had been right; Gage knew immediately that this man was no civilian or ally. Without a taunt or word or even much movement the bear glared at Gage with a hunger for his destruction.

"Go get 'em, Sardov!" Ares' voice rose above the din of the fiery, rain-soaked night. "Try not to make too big a mess!"

With a deep-throated roar the bear lunged forward and swung at Gage's head with force that probably would have knocked him out with one blow. The fox ducked it and rolled forward, out of the way of another ham-sized fist, and sprung to his feet again. Sardov thumped his own chest with an open palm, taunting his smaller opponent. A fire began to grow inside Gage's gut, warming him in the cold rain. He had conceded to death not moments before, knowing that the twins would kill him one way or another and vowing not to play into their games. But his reflexive dodge had shaken him awake; he realized that he literally could not give in. His spirit would not allow it, his body would not allow it, his training would not allow it. All he had to do was remember who he was, not what the twins were trying to force him to be. They could take his uniform and his dignity and throw him into the dirt to die but their efforts were akin to attempting the destruction of water by hurling rocks at it: the surface may ripple but the source remains true. He was Dagger and he would fight as Dagger.

Sardov grew tired of waiting and walked forward like a lumbering bulldozer. With a crack of his knuckles as he clenched his fists, Gage slid forward and delivered a duo of blows to the abdomen that bounced off as he had been hitting the practice mat back at his sparring room. Without losing momentum he struck with a side kick to the same effect and brought his fist around for a blow to the face. Sardov's head barely moved as the fox's fist connected and glanced off harmlessly; it was Gage who gasped in pain and brought his hand back gingerly.

Sardov's turn…

The bear's hand lashed out and grasped Gage's neck in a vise gripe. Before he could react Gage was off his feet, pulling fruitlessly at the fingers around his throat as Sardov lifted him to the roaring cheers of his comrades. But the pirate would not kill him that quickly; Gage saw the other fist wind up, drawn back and cocked like the bolt of an antique firearm. The next thing he knew his face exploded in pain and his head swam, dizzy and throbbing as his vision turned from blinding white to blurry. He was on the ground again, blood from the fresh wound on the side of his forehead being washed away in the tiny rivers between cobblestones. He rolled himself onto his back and saw Sardov glaring down at him. He only had a few moments to think; his mind whirled into a frenzy, strategies and precedence flashing and disappearing. Instinct took over and he listened to the calmer side of his mind.

_Adapt…_

_Body like a tank…whittle down weak spots…tendons, but nothing to cut with…throat…eyes…manhood…_

His frame of mind changed when he felt something shift under his right hand: a cobblestone as big as his outstretched hand, loose from its mortar mooring after years of exposure and neglect. Gage dug his fingerclaws into the sides of the stone and jostled it as best he could. When he felt the last of the sandy mortar give just as Sardov descended upon him, he acted. The bear brought his foot down but Gage was able to roll out of the way, stone in hand. He leapt to his feet and brought his elbow back directly into Sardov's throat, sending the pirate reeling but not badly hurt. Gage pursued and went for the face once again, this time with the rock firmly in-hand. The crushing blow sent a spray of blood into the rain and evoked a shocked, pained expression as if the bear had never been hurt in a fight before. Gage didn't waste his momentary upper-hand; he delivered punches and kicks to the abdomen to keep his opponent's breath at bay, every punch with the aid of the rock.

Blood pulsed in Gage's ears; his attacks had affected Sardov but not enough. His endurance had not been at full even before the fight and he began to feel the heat of exhaustion in his chest. Finally it cost him; one of his blows, too slow, was caught by the bleeding, infuriated Sardov. The bear pummeled him in the stomach, knocking the rest of the fox's own sparse breath out, and followed with a haymaker to the face that sent him down to the stones once again. Sardov retrieved the rock that Gage had dropped after being beaten back and hurled it down to the ground in anger, shattering it.

"Finish! Finish!"

Gage barely heard the chant of the pirates surrounding him. He struggled to stay conscious, the pain of the last blows reverberating throughout his entire body. How could he continue? That he had even gone this far after the tortures of the past day was miracle enough. If he went under he knew he would never wake up. He forced himself to move and crawled over the soaked stones. Sardov played to the crowd, moseying next to Gage with a grin as if watching a harmless fish twitch and die on a trawler deck. Gage fought to regain his strength, his deep hatred of Hellion fueling him. After another minute of desperate crawling and praying that Sardov continued his arrogance, Gage's hand brushed what he had been searching for. Fragments of the cobblestone had been strewn about the gladiatorial ring, mostly dust…but others solid and sharp. Gage felt around as subtly as he could until his palm moved over a piece large enough to get a grip on. Then he waited, enduring the spit and jeers from those around him. When he felt Sardov's rough hand grip his neck he braced himself; if he missed this last opportunity, he was dead for sure.

"Finish, finish!"

With frighteningly effortless strength Sardov lifted Gage once again off his feet by the neck. The fox offered no resistance. They stared each other in the eye as the cheering around them lulled in anticipation of the imminent victory. Sardov's fingers tightened and Gage realized that he was going to crush his neck rather than go for another blow. But the bear's reach was too great; Gage wouldn't be able to strike his face. His lungs empty and his options waning, the captain saw a plan flash in his head and didn't hesitate to enact it.

"Finish! Fin—"

Gage brought his arm up and jammed the sharp rock fragment into Sardov's inner elbow. The bear roared and dropped him to the ground but Gage hit the stones moving, not wasting a moment. He sprung forward and got his fingers around the shard before Sardov could; another roar rose above the rain and shocked voices as he yanked the shard free under a violent spurt of blood. His blood was on fire now; he saw the end, he saw the possibility and it gave him strength for his final strike. With a roar of his own muffled by gritted teeth, Gage charged the reeling bear, leapt with both hands over his head clutching the shard, and brought it down hard. His feet hit the stone and he went to one knee; moments later Sardov crashed to the ground like the greatest tree in Lylat, the thick shard protruding from his left eye.

Gage rose and looked at Sardov, waiting. The pirate didn't move. Only then did he notice the silence; all he heard was the rush of the rain and his own heavy panting. The pirates around him stared in shock. Some in the front of the circle backpedaled behind their comrades out of Gage's reach. The fox's heart still raced; he wanted to kill more of them and his expression must have conveyed that because the guards with assault rifles pushed their way into the circle and trained their weapons on him. He knew he didn't have the strength left; battle adrenaline would wear off and he would be lucky to remain conscious at all. He settled for standing over the fallen giant, letting the rain wash his blood and sweat into the street and yelling into the darkness where the twins undoubtedly watched.

"Not so easy, is it?! Not so easy when you don't hide behind hostages and bombs! Who do you want to send in next?!"

The crowd rumbled to life again with hissing curses and animated chatter. Two of the armed pirates approached Gage but he was grabbed from behind before he could swing at them. He struggled and proved a match for the two guards but the adrenaline surge was already beginning to wear off. They dragged him through the crowd and back to the fountain where he was shoved against the column once again. Three of the guards stepped back and aimed their rifles at him while the fourth began wrapping the chains around his wrists and forearms behind the column.

"It seems we've got a live one here, sister." Ares hopped up onto the fountain, Eris right behind him. Both grinned widely but the glowing arrogance was lacking compared to earlier. "I got to say, Mister Savior, I didn't think a military drone knew how to fight dirty."

"Dagger's full of surprises," Gage muttered on a hoarse throat. The only water he had been able to drink all night was the rain on the ground during the bout. "We get the job done."

"I think the crew of the Artemis Thirteen would disagree with you."

Eris playfully slapped Ares on the shoulder. "Oh, leave him alone, brother. Can't you see he's tired? We can wait 'til tomorrow to kill him and package his limbs to send to that old admiral." She approached Gage and touched the wounds on his head with a gentle finger. With a little grin, she licked the blood from the tip of her finger. "It's all wet and cold out here, brother. You think he can…spend the night with me?"

"Now, now, sister. We don't want him getting too comfortable. He won't be around much longer." Ares beckoned her to his side and both turned to leave, Eris blowing a kiss before following.

"Hey, nutjob."

Ares stopped.

"Why don't you step into the ring?"

The tiger looked over his shoulder. "Because I have so much fun watching." The twins disappeared into the wet night.

With a metallic clank the padlock tightened the chains and Gage let out a raspy sigh, his eyelids growing heavy. He felt something in the palm of his left hand, something cold and metal. He thought nothing of it until another's hand pressed it in hard and closed the fox's fingers around it. The pirate that had bound the chains stood upright and checked the energy mag of his assault rifle.

"You're a lucky man," the pirate said…a female pirate. A female pirate with a familiar voice. "Almost as if you got God himself watching your back."

Gage raised his head and met the pirate's eyes. She wore typically ratty and dirty clothing with a jacket hood covering her head and a scarf wrapped around her muzzle. However, with the pale glow of the braziers he made out light yellow fur around the unmistakable eyes: Ley's eyes. Those friendly eyes made a quick motion toward the church before she turned away lest she be noticed. Before walking away with a heavy swagger she offered one last whisper. "Stay with us a little longer. We'll be waiting." With that, she followed the twins into the darkened town square where the pirates had dispersed, leaving only a dozen or so in immediate view.

Gage looked at the church and his eyes were drawn to the tower. Ley's words clicked in his tired mind; God himself may not be watching him but there wasn't a doubt in his mind that another Dagger operative was. The sudden glimmer of hope staved off his weakness. He slid the metallic item in his hand to his fingers and realized it was a military smart lockpick. With a slight glance around to make sure no one was scrutinizing him he felt for the padlock, took it in his right hand, and started working the tumblers with the pick. Within seconds, the rusty lock clicked and slid loose. Gage slowly eased it off the links and flexed his hands until the chain fell away but he grabbed it before it could drop to the basin and alert any pirates.

_Hope you guys are paying attention._

Gage surveyed Redgrove's town square, this time as the hunter rather than the captive. The night and rain would help him, keep him more hidden. Most of the pirates had gone to sleep in the abandoned buildings; only thirteen remained in the square. None of them suspected trouble. If he made it out of the square he would need to head to the church, straight down the main street with dark shops and houses on either side and plenty of crates, rubbish, and debris on the road. As a plan of action formed in his head, Gage settled his view on the pirate meant to guard the fountain. He leaned on the elevated dais ahead of Gage facing out toward the square, his rifle limp in lazy arms. With a last glance up at the church tower and a prayer that seeing Ley wasn't some kind of exhaustion-induced illusion, he acted.

When no eyes were directly upon him, Gage swung his arms around the column and crept forward, chain in hand. At first he held it as if he was going to choke the pirate with it but he knew he might not have enough time before another one of the enemies in the square saw him. He settled for the blunt approach. A swift smack of the chain in the temple brought the pirate down like a felled tree. Anticipating the attention it would bring, Gage dropped next to the body and picked up the assault rifle, remaining knelt on one knee. In one smooth move he flicked the rifle to semi-auto with his thumb, shouldered it, trained the sights on the first pirate he saw, and put a laser through the upper chest. From there he let his own reactions take over. Prioritizing threat on the fly – who had their weapons ready, who was slower to react, who was shouting or ordering rather than firing – Gage swept right to left, firing and putting down each pirate with one shot. When he counted thirteen shots and no more movement, he stood and headed toward the church, eyes constantly checking every dark corner and window.

The one-sided shootout had raised a ruckus; flashlights and voices erupted from all over central Redgrove. Gage exited the square and started down the narrow main street, barely wide enough for two cars side by side. Lasers bolted past him from behind. Flicking to full auto as he dropped, Gage fell to his back and fired behind him, dropping one pirate and forcing at least four others behind cover. As he recovered, he saw a shadow leap from the roof of the house above the pirates, the subtle glint of a blade in its hand. The shadow slid from pirate to pirate, blade working its grisly purpose. As quickly as she had descended, Ley disappeared back into the shadows.

Gage rolled behind a pile of rubble as more lasers assaulted him, this time from the direction of the church. Just as he rose to one knee to fire at the trio of new enemies, one of the pirates fell over, half his head missing. One of his friends looked around only to have his chest erupt in blood and send him to the same fate. The last pirate attempted to run and only made it two steps before falling over. Gage glanced at the church tower where the unseen bullets had come from and continued down the street.

Gage soon realized that the two groups had only been the first to arrive; lasers soon burned the air around him from both directions again and some had even taken position in the second floors of the shops and houses. Gage fired behind him from cover, killing a couple while sniper fire dropped others and at kept the rest scared. He cursed as his rifle powered down on empty. A couple rifles lay on the ground fifty feet ahead of him, dropped by the corpses of the sniper's first victims. The only problem was they were very exposed, both by pirates behind cover further up the road and by two shooters in the windows of a shop on the left side of the road. Gage's options ran this; the pirates back by the square were gaining courage and moving toward him, wild fire zipping overhead. With a breath to steady himself Gage mustered the trust he held in his teammates and put his life in their hands. He hopped to his feet and ran into the oncoming fire.

What happened next made time seem to pass through Gage's eyes in slow motion. As he ran forward on rubbery legs totally exposed, the pirates ahead rose from cover to fire. Just as Gage expected to feel a laser rip through his chest a cloud of blood erupted around the pirates. The sniper popped them with lightning reflexes as they broke cover, finally causing the rest to duck in fear. His momentary relief was short lived as the shooters in the windows above him to the left trained their weapons on him. One of the pirates was pulled back into the darkness of the house, a black snakelike arm wrapped around his neck. The other realized his partner wasn't shooting and turned only to be struck violently through the window. He landed next to Gage on the back of his neck with a wet snap. The fox scooped up one assault rifle and the energy mag of another before diving back behind cover.

"Behind the church!" Ley's voice echoed over the rain though she remained hidden.

With a few more bursts toward the square, Gage ran for the church and followed the road around it. He settled into a fast-paced walk, rifle shouldered, and encountered a few more surprised pirates along the way which he quickly dropped. Sure enough, the special forces _Hecate _class transport/assault craft was waiting in the graveyard, expertly landed so the skids lay between grave rows. As he approached, the side door slid open to reveal Fara, which evoked a moment of shock in Gage before he realized how relieved he was to see a friendly face. She beckoned him over and he ran the rest of the way.

"Gage!" Fara said as he approached. "Dear god, what happened to you?"

"Where's my team?"

"They said they'd be here."

Gage stepped away from the craft and looked toward the church. A figure rapidly descended the back of the tower by rappel line and dropped to the wet grass. He jogged toward the ship; Gage soon saw that it was DeLaine and was hardly surprised given the quality of the shooting. The wolf approached, rifle strapped to his back, and said, "Pirates have entered the church in pursuit. We must go."

"Where's Ley?"

A hand clapped Gage on the back of the shoulder and the female voice followed. Somehow she had gotten there first unnoticed. "Waiting on you, Cap. I left a few AP mines to slow them down but we need to get going."

The three Dagger operators hopped aboard and Gage noticed that Falco was at the controls. The avian only offered a nod of greeting before powering the ship up and ascending. Soon they were high above the church and lasers plinked at the belly armor. DeLaine pulled something from his vest and leaned out the side door for a better look before pushing the detonator. The church erupted in a massive explosion that bellowed flames far around it and sent the structure into collapse. The ship jolted and shook but was far enough away to avoid debris.

"Leave something in the pirates' collection basket, DeLaine?" Ley asked.

The marksman just nodded. As he grabbed the door handle and moved to slide it shut Gage stopped him and pointed to the mounted gun which was stowed and locked away.

"Set the gun up," the fox commanded. "We're going back."

"What?" Fara placed a hand on his shoulder. "Gage, you look terrible. We have to get you out of here. Besides, that place is crawling with—"

"I don't care! I'm not letting those two fucks get away from me again! They're down there and I'm going to kill them!"

Ley skirted next to Gage and gestured for Fara to return to the copilot's chair, which she hesitantly did. "Sir, listen to me. We came to get you out and we did. You've lost a lot of blood, you're wounded, and you look like you haven't slept in weeks. I know you want them; we all do. But we want you more. And you need to relax right now until we can get you to the Vanguard infirmary." She eased him away from the door and added, "There will be another time."

As Gage moved away from the door he let Ley guide him onto his back. Dizziness set in and the gentle hum of the ship's engine seemed like a soothing voice. He realized for the first time that Ley and DeLaine themselves attempted a rescue from under the noses of vastly superior numbers and he managed to whisper, "Thank you" as he drifted off. Ley gave a comforting smile. Try as he might to stay awake as the leopardess opened her First-Aid kit, he was unconscious before DeLaine pulled the door shut, leaving the fiery visage of Redgrove behind.

"Don't celebrate yet," Falco grumbled. "Scans show fighters incoming.

"This ship doesn't have the maneuverability to dogfight," Ley said as she worked on Gage's wounds. "That's why we brought you two."

"We're working on it. Hold on to something."

As the two Dagger soldiers buckled in, Ley bracing Gage against her, the ship dove and pulled into a diagonal spiral. The muffled sound of lasers passed the doors and flew in front of the canopy. Ley dared a look through the cockpit to see Redgrove speeding toward them then past them as the ship righted and maneuvered practically through the suburban streets. Lasers whizzed past them and blew sections of the old houses away in fiery blasts. The leopardess closed her eyes; she had never liked being the passenger in a wild ride that could end abruptly at any moment. DeLaine just sat holding a rail with a look of mild annoyance on his face.

"God dammit," Falco cursed.

Fara added, "More fighters onscreen. That makes six."

"I have nowhere to lose them in all this damn farmland. Hold on, I'll try that forest over there."

"You're gonna fly through a forest?!"

"I've done worse. Flew through an office building once."

"Wait!" Fara grabbed his wrist to stop him. "One of the fighters is gone. Now another. What the hell?"

In a blaze of noise and fire, three pirate fighters boosted past the ship. The two confounded pilots of the Dagger ship barely had time to react before a greater vision of sound and fury followed, blue lasers cutting through the rainy night. One of the pirate fighters burst into flame and fell. An almost beautiful dance ensued between the attacker and the fleeing pirates until each pirate in turn exploded and fell with the rain to the abandoned farmland below.

"You guys okay?" A familiar voice crackled over the radio.

"Fox?" Falco raised an eyebrow. "Is that you?"

The guardian ship hovered closer, revealing itself as an Arwing. "I'm sorry I didn't come back immediately. I needed to think. We have to talk but I think we should get out of here first."

"How did you know we were here?" Fara asked.

"I returned to the Vanguard and McGarret gave me the coordinates. I'm sorry, I should have been there to help from the start." He hesitated. "Is Gage okay?"

"He looks bad but he's still in one piece. Get us back to the Vanguard."

With a U-turn that left a lingering, glowing trail in the rain-soaked night, Fox led the way toward Zoness orbit.

-

* * *

-

_LDC Vanguard, bridge_

_-  
_

"Sir?"

McGarret's eyes flew open and he realized with a grumble that he had been dozing. He simply couldn't sleep until he discovered what became of Gage; he had lost many soldiers under his command but a valuable asset like Gage would be an even greater blow. The bridge activity was slow and back to normal routine since the alerts of the past few days but the calm only made McGarret more anxious of the next attack. "What is it, Ensign Dugan?"

"Sir, we've received word from Falco Lombardi. Captain Birse was safely extracted though he will need immediate medical attention. Infirmary crews are standing by. He reports zero friendly casualties."

McGarret nodded, a long, shuddering breath escaping him. "What of McCloud? Has he linked up with them?"

"Yes, sir. He went straight to the coordinates and it doesn't look like he's leaving again." The feline ensign opened his mouth to speak again but shut it and his eyes darted between the admiral and the folder in his hands.

"Speak up, Ensign."

The feline sighed through his nose and pulled a sheet from the folder before glancing at it and handing it to McGarret. "Sir, the rogue Arwing is back, the one we first sighted after the attempt on Captain Birse's life in Fairington. Once again, it's just inside our scan range near Venom, just idling there."

Sure enough, the scan image given to McGarret showed, through all the technical charts and numbers, the silhouette of an Arwing. "I don't suppose there's any chance it could be Slippy Toad."

"No, sir. The signature is not in our records. We weren't even sure the Arwing had a pilot; thermal imaging and life readings both fluctuated wildly. If it hadn't flown away and disappeared off our scans, I'd say it was a derelict. We still can't be sure."

"We can't be sure of anything with Dianus. If this Arwing appears again I want a squadron scrambled immediately to pursue it."

"Yes, sir. Will there be anything else?"

McGarret tapped his muzzle with his forefinger. "Inform Miss Sherwood of the good news regarding Captain Birse and see to it she has clearance to see him once he's stabilized."

"I will, sir. She hasn't been seen outside her room in quite some time."

"Well, she was quite taken with Captain Birse." The old wolf glanced up at the ensign sideways. "I trust you'll have no problems finding someone to deliver the news to a lonely, emotional, beautiful diva."

"I'll, uh…take care of it personally, sir."

"Good man."

-

_**-Chapter 11 coming soon-**_


	16. Krystal Clear

[Author's Note: Pardon the pun title, couldn't resist. Bit of a quicker update this time, hope to keep the same pace. Thanks for reading and enjoy! -Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 11  
Krystal Clear  
_Venom  
1655 local time_

_-  
_

General Heramus reached into his breast pocket with a quivering hand and retrieved a handkerchief with which to dab beads of sweat from his forehead. The old bloodhound had just trekked from his shuttle on the exposed landing pad to the air conditioned central complex but five minutes in the harsh heat of Venom could not account for the discomfort. The Venomian officer's uniform clung to him like his own fur but all the cool air in the world could not keep him from sweating as he walked across the dark metal floor, his steps echoing from the slanted transparent walls that showed off the Venomian wastes with such grandeur. The silence only made his gut churn harder. He was not alone; he would have preferred it that way but the silent, cold stares he received would not leave him. Dianus' personal guards stood at upright attention at every corner, every hidden nook, their faces obscured by hooded cloaks and masks.

His footsteps became soft thumps as he entered the long carpeted hallway leading to Dianus' chamber. Two cloaked guards flanked the high door. Like those in the main complex, they wore tight black combat suits with deep green trim at the joints and seams along with sweeping black cloaks and hoods. Heramus visited the complex often and he had only been able to deduce three things about Dianus' personal guard: they were all women, he had never seen a single face, and he hated being around them.

"You're late," one of the guards said as he approached.

Heramus dabbed his forehead. "I had some trouble tracking them down."

"Go in."

The left guard flicked her hand behind her and the door swung open. Heramus was barely two steps inside before it slammed shut again. Dianus' chamber spread before him, the floor made of the same black metal as the rest of the complex. Instead of walls the chamber was surrounded by a spherical window that enveloped the occupants in the vast Venomian deserts. Dianus stood above him on the top tier of the segmented floor near the window, gazing out at the landscape. She hesitantly turned away and moved toward her desk, an impressive fixture of wood and metal with monitors and holographic displays protruding from the sides like a spider's legs. She did not sit but rather stepped in front and looked at the general.

"Good day, General Heramus," the vixen said in a tone impossible to read. "Forgive me if I skip small talk. Report."

Heramus tucked his handkerchief away; he refused to let any nervousness be seen by Dianus. "Your plans are moving forward on every front. Bolse is operating at near full capacity. Starfox is shattered and the Vanguard is overworked. The politicians in the LDC won't take any firm stance on sending assistance."

"Politicians are our greatest unwilling allies; they'll posture and talk but the Vanguard will die alone. What of Project Atlas?"

"Entering its final phase, ma'am."

Dianus nodded slowly. Her long, loose dress shimmered in the yellow light and Heramus saw it for the first time in clarity: pale purple and perfect accompaniment for her deep red fur and white throat. "Project Siren?"

"The lead scientist informs me that they are making progress but I cannot be sure." He cleared his throat and tried to think of a way to make his words not sound accusatory. "I don't have the proper clearance to even know what Project Siren is."

"You will in time." She seemed to not be affected by his report one way or the other; she bowed her head and became lost in her own thoughts for a few moments. "What of Fox McCloud?"

"He fled Venom after discovering his father's Arwing. Comm traffic indicated he might have found something that revealed the truth regarding you and James McCloud, something we missed while setting the trap. I imagine he won't be a threat anymore. Being your son, he would naturally be–" Heramus choked his last word as Dianus' head snapped up and her eyes glared at him with all the fury of the constant searing sandstorms outside.

"Fox McCloud," she said in a tone that made the general's flesh crawl, "was Vixy McCloud's son, not Dianus' son. I trust I won't have to remind you of that again."

"No…no, of course not, ma'am."

The burning eyes receded back into the shadows. "If you have nothing of substance to say then you're wasting my time. Conclude our business so you can scurry away. Tell me of this problem involving Dagger."

Heramus nodded vigorously. "It seems that special operations command in Corneria City did not send the full Dagger unit as it did not deem us a worthy threat. This decision was made before our recent victories, however. I don't know how the LDC will react to the Great Fox's destruction as well as the Bolse platform's operational status. As of now, only two operatives have arrived to support Captain Gage Birse."

"I was most disappointed to hear of his escape. I gave explicit orders that he was to be immediately brought to our maximum security installation here." Dianus watched as the general swallowed and searched for words. She hid a slight grin, amused. "Don't worry, General. You can hardly be faulted for the indiscretions of some wild mercenaries. You brought them as I asked?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll send them in if you need nothing more from me."

"You seem to be in a hurry to leave, General." Dianus sauntered toward him, taking each step down a tier in a light, carefree manner, dragging out the time. She stopped a couple paces before him, shown in full light as a vixen caressed by time but not punished by it, the years dulling her fur slightly and adding creases near the eyes. She leaned over and met the bloodhound's eyes; Heramus imagined some would find her beautiful and irresistible if they didn't know her as he did. Their eyes remained locked and Heramus ignored the fresh sweat on his forehead, too afraid to look away. "Do I frighten you?"

"No, ma'am…not at all, ma'am."

"You served my husband well during the war, General. Maintain that same loyalty and you have no need to fear." Dianus spun on her heel, evoking a cool breeze as her gown flowed around her legs, and walked back up toward her desk. "Send them in."

Heramus let out a long breath. "They're quite unpredictable, ma'am. Should I send them in with guards?"

She flicked her hand in the air. "I have all the protection I need in here."

The hound looked around and nearly jumped when more black and green-clad guards stepped forward from the shadows created by the arcing windows. He counted at least four and couldn't be sure of more. "Ah…I see. I'll send them in right away. Good day, ma'am."

The large double doors opened and closed. Silence fell over the chamber once again but only for a few minutes. Soon, chatter and laughter could be heard moving closer from the hallway and louder still when the guards opened the door to admit Hellion access. The twin tigers entered Dianus' chamber and continued their carefree chatter as the doors closed behind them. They were dressed in faded, mismatched clothing and boots natural of a pirate without the slightest care of their appearance before Dianus. Even when the vixen turned from her desk and looked at them the twins seemed as indifferent to her presence as Heramus was frightened of it.

"Well, hey there!" Ares finally said with a mock salute. "Look at that dress, sister. I hope you look that good when you're old."

"Indeed, brother. But not so serious. Look at that face! I don't think she's happy to see us."

Ares raised his palms. "Wait, wait. Before you say anything Di, we planned to turn the Dagger captain over to your general that night. You never told us to expect his Dagger pals to show up. So really, it's sort of your fault, don't you think?"

Dianus did not answer immediately. She leaned back against her desk and strummed her fingers on the metal surface, the rapid clicks of her fingerclaws filling the silent void. "Captain Gage Birse bested you."

"Now hold on there." Eris stepped forward next to her brother. "_We _had him right where we wanted him. He was our plaything. The second we left him in the charge of your pirates he was sprung. We did exactly what we wanted to. Your pirates flushed it all down. No military drone could ever best us."

Ares nodded. "You know, sister, I'm fed up with all these orders and accusations. It's starting to cramp our style. I say Di here can fight her own stupid little war and we'll go back to doing things our own way for our own lives. You hear that, Di? Screw off."

A low rumble permeated the air, almost inaudible. It slowly rose and the twins realized it was a chuckle. Dianus' chest rose and fell in slow rhythm as she stifled her laughter. She stepped forward and stood with her arms crossed. "I tolerate you slimy creatures for the same reason I tolerate the pirates: you're convenient tools to build my vision. I hired you because you're the best at what you do: pointless chaos, the indiscriminate, indescribable, incomprehensible madness that creates confusion where I need it. I don't care what you do to Dagger or the military or civilians. I don't care what sociopathic delights you seek like some diseased juvenile searching for thrills." She stepped forward. Any sign of humor from her laugh was gone, replaced by a hardened frown and stern glare. "But I do care when I give an order and my pawns don't follow it. I refuse to have my goals jeopardized by your ineptitude and pitiful excuses. Captain Birse escaped. Your ill-founded arrogance led to that result. I don't expect urchins like you to understand the power of military discipline and loyalty but the moment you kidnapped Dagger's captain, you and my pirates didn't stand a chance against his men. If you brought him here as you were ordered he would have been properly secured."

The twins looked at each other, both slightly taken aback by the stern retort. Ares furrowed his brow and spoke up. "We've heard the same speech before. Discipline, command, brotherhood, all that bullshit. They got lucky, period. Look at our history; we've outdone every organized armed force in Lylat including Dagger."

"Too true, brother," Eris chimed in. "If there's one thing we learned it's everyone has their price. Those that can't be bought can be kept away with fear. People bow to fear faster than they rise to loyalty. That's why we'll never be bested, not by Dagger, not by anyone."

"I see," Dianus said. She raised her right hand, snapped her fingers, and gestured to the tigers. Two guards descended upon them in the blink of an eye and locked their arms behind them. The twins protested and struggled but the guards barely budged, their masked and hidden faces visages of indifference. One guard stepped between them and Dianus and looked toward her mistress. With a graceful move of her hand, the vixen slid her forefinger across her throat. The guard nodded once in a curt bow and turned to the twins, a glint of metal in her hand as a knife was produced from some hidden sheath beneath her cloak.

"Screw off!" Eris spat, struggling harder.

Her brother began laughing maniacally. "Too scared to get your own hands dirty! Too weak!"

But the guard did not move toward the twins. Instead, she raised the knife to her side and, without a moment's hesitation, plunged it into the side of her own neck. Before her strength could give out, she sliced through her own throat and lowered her arm as the blood rushed forth from the gaping neck wound down the front of her uniform and to a puddle around her feet. With one last act of ironic respect, she cleaned the knife on her cloak with quivering hands before letting it drop to the spreading puddle.

Dianus strode forth and breezed past the teetering guard. She grabbed Ares' muzzle in her hand, her claws digging into his flesh, and hisses in his ear, "Watch!"

It did not take long for the guard to die though she tried her best to stand firm for as long as possible. She stood without a word or sound, her face in darkness. Her knees finally buckled and she fell to the ground and lay still. The twins stared in silence; not horror or disgust for what they witnessed was mild compared to what they had done to people themselves. But the reasoning surrounded it eluded them, refused to take root in their minds.

"You'll never understand loyalty," Dianus hissed again, "primitive creatures like you. But now you've seen those who cannot be bought or intimidated. Any guard of mine would do the same without question. Can you say the same of anyone you know? You'll never understand the power of loyalty and discipline until they bring about your own downfall, until you underestimate soldiers like Dagger and they rip your throats out for it."

She looked over to where the dead guard laid, blood soaking into the withered cloak. "You were right, boy. I don't get my own hands dirty. I am weak. I'm a weak woman in her fifties with hardly the strength to hold a rifle steady. And yet I can shake Heaven and Hell with a snap of my fingers. You know why? Because I don't need to aim my own gun when I have legions of utterly loyal and disciplined soldiers willing to die for me. You underestimated Captain Birse. I suggest you stop and think for a change before underestimating me. One more insolent word and my guards will serve your tongues on a platter."

Dianus gestured to the guards holding the twins and they released the tigers before returning to their posts. She stood silent for a time as if waiting for the twins to test her claims but they only frowned and remained silent. She continued, her tone calmer. "My husband and I underestimated someone once and we suffered for it. I want Fox McCloud with a fervor you could never imagine. We underestimated him and he killed my husband and left me powerless. But we can all get what we want. You will continue working for me with a ten percent pay cut for your horrid manners which cost me the time and resources invested in a guard. I will accomplish my goals and you will have your war against Dagger. But if we must meet like this again…believe me when I say I would rather lose both of you than another guard. Have I made myself unmistakably clear?"

The twins glanced at each other again and started slowly backtracking toward the door. Ares nodded. "Yeah…sure…yeah, it's all good. No problem."

"Yeah," Eris said. "When you put it that way, why not? It's a good gig."

Dianus turned and stepped over the guard's body on her way back to her desk. "I have an operation underway in Corneria City but I'll be calling upon you after that. Be ready. Now get out of my sight. Oh, and on your way out tell the door guards that I need my chamber cleaned."

As the door closed behind the twins, Dianus walked behind her desk to the window and stared out at the amber wastes. It hadn't been so long ago when she was reveling in the sight of the Bolse platform's bombardment, knowing that Fox McCloud was once again on Venom. She touched her hand to the glass and wondered if he was still out there somewhere or if she would get to look him in the eye one last time before killing him. As she gazed out and time passed, she remembered what she said to Heramus and repeated it under her breath. "Fox McCloud is not Dianus' son."

-

* * *

-

_LDC Vanguard, infirmary  
1243 hours ship time_

-

Gage's eyelids snapped open and he stared at a shiny white surface far above his head. His inner balance slowly came back to him and he realized he was staring up at a ceiling. Low voices stirred around him and a black avian face soon hovered over him. He moved a cold stethoscope around the fox's torso and flashed a thin light into his eyes before nodding and backing off. With an electric hum, the head half of the bed inclined up until Gage was propped up with a view of the crisp, clean infirmary room. Falco leaned against the far wall by the door with his arms crossed while Fox and Fara stood by the bed on his right. Ley and DeLaine stood with the doctor on his left, looking over the avian's shoulders to double check the life support monitors.

"Good to see you again, Captain Birse," the doctor said distractedly as he copied vital statistics to his holopad. "For someone who dislikes infirmaries you surely visit them often."

"Look at that face," Fara said with a warm grin. "He's shocked to be alive. I'd be too if the last thing I experienced before passing out was that flying."

"It got us out of there, didn't it?" Falco retorted.

"Well, DeLaine," Ley said with an exaggerated sigh, her focus now on her captain, "looks like he'll make it. Guess we don't get those field promotions after all."

Gage gave a chuckle which turned into a cough in his dry throat. "That's what I get for recruiting a woman. Get used to those sergeant's stripes."

"I never doubted you'd make it, sir," DeLaine said from behind the leopardess.

Ley patted Gage on the arm and squeezed his shoulder. The fox's expression turned somber and he placed his hand on her forearm. He met both her eyes and DeLaine's in turn and said, "Thank you both. I owe you one."

"You don't owe us anything," she replied. "I'm just sorry we couldn't have been there in the first place to either prevent it or share the pain."

"Same goes for me." Fox's voice drew Gage's eyes to the other side of the bed where he leaned over, his tired face a mask of depth. He seemed nearly ready to keel over from exhaustion but too lost in his thoughts to even think of sleep. "I'm sorry I wasn't there; I came as soon as I heard but it was nearly too late. I wouldn't have been able to stand it if something happened; it would've been the last straw."

Gage narrowed his eyes. "Last straw? What are you…" He blinked and remembered the blast from the Bolse station and the twins bragging about its target. He thought it had all been bluster and lies. "Dear God…they really did destroy the Great Fox. Is everyone okay?" He glanced around again and realized the one person who was missing besides Peppy. He inhaled through his nose and lowered his voice. "I'm so sorry, Fox."

"Alright, that's enough!" Falco stepped forward, a scowl on his beak and anger in his eyes hiding repressed pain. "Great, everyone's sorry for something, everyone owes someone else for something. Glad we got that out of the way. Stop the happy reunion shit and wrap it up; McGarret wants to talk to me and Fox."

The Starfox commander met his wingman's eyes for a moment and nodded. "I have a few things I need to discuss with the admiral. Don't ask, I'll fill you in later. Hope you feel better." He rapped Gage on the shoulder and stood to leave. Falco turned and followed him out the door, the scowl from his outburst already subdued and betraying his attempts to keep the recent tragedies distant.

"Hey, asshole," Gage said, prompting the avian to stop and look over his shoulder. "Thank you, too."

Falco hesitated and finally gave a half wave. "Take it easy, boy scout." The door slid shut behind him.

Ley watched him go, her feline eyes studying the Starfox members deeper than their words and gestures. It was her job to adapt to moods, surroundings, and expectations of strangers who would kill her if her cover failed; recognizing the inner turmoil in the two pilots took no longer than a blink. "Falco's a hell of a pilot. You weren't too bad either, merc. But I know what it's like to lose brothers in arms. We all do. This is their first time, their most trying time. Now we see whether they can move on or whether it proves to be too much."

"That's the life," DeLaine muttered. "One must accept it."

Gage shifted on the bed; the bandages on his wounds itched and pulled at his fur. "You know, Falco's right; everyone's sorry for something. Look what Dianus and Hellion have done to everyone around here. They've hurt us all." He frowned and looked at the medical equipment around him with loathing. "Doc, how long do I have to be here?"

The avian's head remained bowed as he studied his holopad but his eyes glanced up with mild annoyance. "I was wondering how long until you tried to talk your way out, Captain. You've suffered multiple lacerations and blunt trauma, resulting in significant blood loss and mild hemorrhaging, in addition to a concussion. You've been stabilized and I see no permanent damage except a handful of scars to add to your collection. Your wounds healed nicely while you were out for the past fifteen hours; nothing too challenging for gel and medi-fluid packs. I'd recommend you take it easy for a few days but it's ultimately Admiral McGarret's call." He shook his head with a sigh. "I don't know why I bother giving recommendations in the first place."

Ley rolled her eyes. "You know, maybe we should just stop all this downer talk and focus on what's actually gone right. How 'bout that rescue, boss? Pirates never knew what hit 'em. I bet Braddock's going to be sore as hell that he missed it; put him on a roof with a heavy repeater and there wouldn't have been anyone left to gut."

Gage grinned. "You were nuts to make yourself stand out by interacting with me. Do you have any idea what they would have done with you if you were caught?"

"Oh, yeah, like trying to blend in amongst dirty leering men is new for me. I can take care of myself, boss. Remember the Katina drug cartel, the nightclub recon? When that turncoat informant turned me in and all I was equipped with was that strapless purple number? The drug lord wasn't just after information when he interrogated me, you know?"

"You never really did go into detail about how you escaped that one."

Ley's grin widened. "Well, I just didn't want to give you boys nightmares about what I can do when backed into a corner." She raised her arms to each side in a flourish as if performing a magic act and flicked her right wrist, a thin blade appearing in her palm. "Let's just say I always carry something sharp in case I need it."

Gage glanced at DeLaine; his usual stone expression changed for a moment as his nose wrinkled in disgust. The fox gave a similar reaction. "I think we'll leave the rest in the debrief archives where it belongs. Your Redgrove act was risky but commendable; it saved my life so I guess I can't rag on it too much."

"Right." The leopardess hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "Besides, I knew the gargoyle had my back. What was your kill to shot ratio anyway, Del?"

"Thirty-four to thirty-five," The wolf said with a tinge of bitterness, unsatisfied with the one miss.

"Oh, right. The one where you almost blew my head off."

DeLaine's eyes narrowed. "For the last time, I did not mistake you as a target. I fired at a pirate just as he raised his rifle and the bullet caught the gun instead."

"Yeah, right. I had just jumped down next to those four guys and gutted two of them when I heard a crack right next to my ear and the crate beside me got a hole blown in it. No one else was throwing bullets out there, hotshot."

"I was shooting nowhere near you when you killed those four. If I mistook you for a target then you wouldn't be standing here right now." He added, "It was hard not to notice you out there anyway."

Ley's jaw dropped. "Are you attempting a retort?! Seriously?! You wouldn't have been able to find me in Redgrove if I was two feet in front of your scope."

"Excuse me!" The black avian looked up from his pad and glowered at the arguing soldiers. "This man needs rest despite what he says. I want everyone to leave. Now.

Ley huffed at DeLaine and punched him in the shoulder. The wolf hardly reacted and followed her out, both of them giving a salute as they reached the door. "We'll see you up and around soon, sir," the scout said with a wink.

Fara, who had been silent and lost in her own thoughts for much of the time, stood hesitantly and said, "Doctor? Is it okay if I stay a while longer? I want to talk about something. Nothing strenuous, I promise."

The doctor huffed and shoved the pad in his pocket. "Do what you want. I have more serious patients to tend to. I'll say again that you really do need your rest." As he followed the other Dagger member out he grumbled, "But what do I know, I'm just a doctor."

Gage gave Fara an amused look as the door closed behind the avian. "I always piss doctors off. That's the same one who tended me after the first attack on the Vanguard; I didn't take his advice then either."

Fara attempted to smile back but her mind was obviously elsewhere. She pulled a chair beside the bed and sat leaning forward, elbows on knees. "That Ley's an interesting woman."

"Her? She likes ribbing DeLaine. She's also probably the most upbeat of Dagger but that doesn't always mean she feels upbeat. It's her job to be convincing." He gave a short shrug. "She doesn't enjoy killing any more than the rest of us."

"She seems to…like you a lot."

Gage laughed and coughed again. "That's just who Ley is. We're teammates, nothing more and nothing less. She takes pride in being the only female Dagger operative and she flaunts it. What, you thought me and her were an item?" He laughed again and managed to avoid coughing.

Fara pursed her lips. "Well excuse me, so sorry for not knowing everyone's love life. It just seemed that way to me."

"Why do you care anyway?"

The vixen's muzzle hung open and she snapped it shut, her teeth clicking. She clasped her hands together and fidgeted in the chair for a few moments, Gage looking at her expectantly. "Listen, Gage. Back in Redgrove when I saw you approaching the ship, you just looked so…so…" She windmilled her hand in search of the word.

"Messed up?"

"Close enough. I realized then that if I lost you, I'd be losing the only person in all of Lylat that I trust. I also realized that I don't just trust you because you've been nice to me. You're a good man. What I mean is…" She trailed off.

Gage furrowed his brow. "What?"

Fara took a deep breath. "I've never had feelings like…If we could…" Finally, she just blurted out, "Do you want to go on a second date?"

The fox blinked in surprise and a grim demeanor settled over him. "Fara, think about it. I'm gone all the time. I'm in danger all the time. I have a laughable paycheck and gallons of blood on my hands. Do you really want a relationship with someone like that?"

"I know, you've said before that people like us aren't meant for love. But I don't know if that's true. Maybe it's not easy for us, maybe it's not traditional, but we can have feelings just like anyone else. We just have to work harder at it, that's all. Doesn't that make it even more special?" Fara suddenly seemed embarrassed at what she'd said and lowered her eyes, her cheeks dark. "I'm sorry, I don't want to come off sounding like some dumb cheerleader. I just want you to know that…I trust you. Seeing as our first date was interrupted, maybe you'd like another."

Gage looked at his lap for what seemed like the longest time, his face neutral but his eyes deep. The silence in the empty room was crushing and Fara rubbed her arms just to hear the ruffle of her shirt material. Finally, the fox raised his eyes and said, "I guess I wouldn't mind a date that ended with a kiss rather than mouth-to-mouth from an EMT."

Fara smiled.

"But you have to do something for me. You said you trust me, right? I want to know more about you. Personal privacy is one thing but I'd like to know more than the first name of the woman I'm dating. Let's start with a last name unless you want me calling you Phoenix forever."

The vixen clasped her hands again and fiddled with her fingers. "Alright, here goes. As long as we're being honest…I don't know."

"What?" Gage raised his eyebrows. "You don't know your last name?"

Fara shook her head. "I remember flying over Macbeth and when I woke up I was a captive of those Jade Dragon pirates you rescued me from. They shot me down and found me unconscious. I had some sort of amnesia but things started coming back to me…my name, my profession, certain snippets of history like my parents' faces and things from childhood. But I don't know my last name; apparently I was so good at being a ghost mercenary that no law enforcement database has anything on my true identity. I don't know my last name, I don't know much of anything from before the crash except these snippets."

"Have you talked to the doctor? Maybe he can—"

"No!" Her hand shot out and grabbed his arm like an alligator's jaws. She loosened her grip. "I'm sorry. I just…I already talked to him. He said with a case like this I might remember everything with time or I might not. I've thought a lot about it and I don't care anymore. I want to start over and live my life from now forward without the past."

Gage looked her in the eye. "You seem pretty eager. Don't you want to know if you left anything behind? Or anyone?"

Fara slowly shook her head. She spoke in a lower tone, her voice slightly unstable. "I have these dreams. Sometimes not even a dream, just a flash in my mind while I'm walking around or having coffee or doing nothing at all. I don't know what's going on in them; usually they're just glances that make me feel afraid or sad. I don't know what I did as a mercenary or what I was like before the crash but I know that if these dreams and flashes were part of it…and I know they are…then I don't want to remember."

"Fair enough."

"Do you believe me?" Fara gently placed her hand where her reflexive grasp had dug into his arm. "Can you trust me like I trust you?"

Gage let her hand caress him. As much as he wanted to feel detached from it he remembered feeling just as glad to see her in Redgrove as she had been to see him. "I won't bullshit you; it takes a lot for me to trust someone completely. I don't mistrust you. That'll have to be good enough for now."

She nodded. It wasn't the answer she was looking for but she certainly feared harsher rejection. With another, gentler squeeze of his arm she stood. "So next time you're feeling up to it we'll have dinner again. But this time I get to pick the restaurant." She stole a glance at the door. "I better get out of here before that doctor comes in and scolds me like some uptight principal."

"Now there's a mental image to keep me company while I'm here. You wouldn't look half bad in a plaid skirt and knee-socks."

"Men," Fara scoffed with a roll of her eyes. She hit the wall switch to open the door. "Speaking of dirty thoughts, Krystal wants to see you but she won't come out until we're all gone."

Gage looked past her out the open door and saw only white-coated doctors and nurses. "Come out? Where is she?"

Fara pointed to a white-panel door on the right side of the room. "Hiding in the bathroom. She wants to show you something first before letting anyone else see."

The fox blinked. "There's a part of her no one's seen yet?"

Fara stifled a laugh and left, the door closing behind her.

A minute or so passed and Gage waited to see if Krystal would come out on her own. "Krystal?" he said, earning no response. At least he was comforted in knowing that she hadn't heard any of his exchange with Fara. He raised his voice and nearly shouted, "Krystal?!"

The handle clicked and the door cracked open, showing only a slit of darkness. Krystal's voice rose from the darkness, nervous and faint. "Gage? Are you alright?"

"Yeah…fine…" He cocked an eyebrow. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I was so worried. I've, like, never been so worried in my life. I met your teammates; they're nice. Well, the woman is, that other guy's kinda scary. I bet he's—"

"Krystal," Gage interrupted, "I'm not going to talk to a crack in the wall. Why don't you come out here?"

The dark bathroom remained silent for a moment. "I want to but...I'm not like how you know me. You think I'm beautiful, right?"

"Sure. So does most of Lylat."

"Well…I might not be anymore. I want to show you something but I'm afraid of what might happen if I do."

Gage squinted but he still could not see anything in the bathroom. "And what might happen?"

"You won't think I'm beautiful anymore. And neither will Lylat."

"What did you do, sprout a second head?"

"No." The malaise in her answer indicated that she didn't see it as far from the truth. "Close your eyes."

Gage sighed and did so.

"Are they closed?"

"Yeah."

"For real? No peeking?"

"They're closed!"

Gage heard a slight squeak as the bathroom door opened followed by very ponderous, hesitant footsteps. They ended right next to his bed and he could feel her hovering over him. He waited for her to say something, strumming his fingers on the mattress. "Well?"

She remained silent for a bit longer than finally spoke in a soft, quivering whisper as if sentencing her own death. "Okay."

Gage opened his eyes. What he first noticed were the darker colors: her tight denim pants, a purple shirt, and a short-sleeved black jacket. He then noticed the stranger wearing them, her fur almost disappearing in the bright light and white surroundings. He had expected the blue-furred woman who was all at once a breath of fresh air and a royal pain in the ass; while he was sure the latter two attributes still applied, the new fur color jumped out at him like a new body altogether. The fur gleamed in the light, lustrous silver with white highlights and two deep blue eyes so afraid, so anxious in waiting for his reaction. It danced like water as she trembled, hugging herself in a timid way as if she was naked in the middle of a group of thugs. Gage realized he was staring with his jaw open. He composed himself and said, "Wow. New fur dye? I didn't know they could do silver so well."

Krystal stopped trembling. She didn't confirm or deny but merely whispered, "Do you like it?"

"It's astounding." Gage suddenly remembered something, a time from his childhood that stood out as one of the few happy periods. "It reminds me of snow in the moonlight. I love it."

All the dread, all the concern, it all came rushing out at once as Krystal fell into the chair Fara had pulled up beside the bed. She took her face in her hands and quaked, her breath coming in short, sobbing bursts. It was not the same sort of tantrum or emotional outburst that Gage had seen from her before; she appeared as surprised by it as he was.

"What is it?" Gage asked. "What's the matter? I'm serious, I really think it looks great."

"I know," Krystal choked between her hands. "That's why I'm crying." She took a few deep breaths to steady herself. "I've worn that blue dye for seventeen years. They all said that I needed it to be beautiful, to be a star, to be exotic. They said I was nobody without it, that I was nothing. Ugly." She raised her head from her palms and looked at the fox; her tear-streaked cheeks glistened like waterfalls. "Were they wrong, Gage?"

"They were wrong." Gage reached out and gently took her wrist. He rubbed his thumb up and down the smooth fur. "That's not dye, is it?"

Krystal shook her head.

"It doesn't matter what I think or what your agents and producers think. What did you think when you looked in the mirror."

The silver superstar looked down at her hands and turned them over, studying them. "It felt like I was free, that the blue dye was, like, a prison I had grown comfortable with. I don't know if that makes sense." She looked at Gage again and even offered a tentative smile. "Fara helped me with it. She reminded me of what you said, how I should look at what I really want out of life or whether I'm happy. I don't know yet but I think I want to start looking."

"That's good. But you can't hide in bathrooms forever. Do you think you can walk out that door?"

Krystal's smile slipped. Her eyes roved back and forth between the door and her own lap for a good few minutes before she slowly stood. She slid the black jacket off, revealing the sleeveless purple shirt, and tossed it over Gage's legs on the bed. With a tone touched by confidence but still overcome with fear, she said, "Time to see what the public thinks of the new Krystal."

"Just don't walk by the surgery ward; we don't need them getting distracted and staring."

She giggled. "You're so sweet. Get better, okay?"

As the door opened and bustling sounds of the infirmary washed inside, some of the noise died down upon her exit. For all the fear she must have felt, she kept walking. Two familiar voices became louder just outside his door, arguing back and forth: Ley and the doctor whose name Gage realized he never found out. Ley backed into the room, holding her hands out and rapidly saying, "Just a minute, okay? Just one minute. That's all I need, just a minute."

She smacked the wall switch and turned with a heavy breath as the door closed. "Yeesh, the docs around here need to switch to decaf, take the edge off. Was that Krystal who just came out?"

"Yeah."

"Really?" The leopardess rolled her eyes and walked over to the side of the bed. "That new dye must've cost more than a year's pay. Frickin' divas."

Gage only grinned. "So you just come in here to piss off the medical staff, or did you not get enough of me before?"

Ley's light yellow and white face turned more serious. She backed up against the wall and leaned against it, one knee bent with the foot resting on it. "I just wanted to say something about Redgrove."

"Is this about DeLaine almost shooting you?"

"No." She dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "He didn't do anything, it's just fun annoying him. This is about something I heard when I was mixing with the pirates. I was right next to the fountain before Hellion threw you to that Sardov monster."

Gage swallowed. He shifted in the bed and averted his eyes, his cheeks suddenly burning though he tried his best to hide it. A moment of anger rose in his chest and he felt the urge to order her to leave, to viciously defend that he had no other choice. But he didn't. "I know what you heard."

"I haven't told anyone else," She also fidgeted and switched her other foot against the wall. "I feel stupid telling you it's all part of the job, that you couldn't have known he was a civilian. The twins threw you into a circle and told you to fight or else you die. What else were you supposed to do? That's how Hellion works, you know that. They're the very definition of damned if you do, damned if you don't."

"I know. They would have killed him anyway." Gage shook his head. "But they didn't. I did. Listen, I'll be okay. Like you said, it's part of the job. I just need a bit of time to let it go away."

Ley nodded. "Given the conditions of the situation, no self-respecting officer in the galaxy would blame you. Not that it matters; the whole operation was a black op. Officially, we just happened to be in the area and gave you a lift home." She added a moment later, "But I know you. You don't need officers to issue you blame. You'll do that to yourself more than they ever could. It's been that way ever since Artemis Thirteen."

Gage had been staring at his lap; he glanced up at her and immediately brought his eyes back. "Is that all, Sergeant?"

"Yes, sir." The leopardess pushed herself off the wall and saluted before leaving. "The rest of the team sent their regards. We're eager to have you back with us."

Gage returned the salute. "It won't be long. I promise."

-

**_-Chapter 12 coming soon-_**


	17. Serve and Protect

[Author's Note: No announcements or comments this time. As always, much appreciation for reading/reviewing and enjoy! --Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 12  
Serve and Protect  
_Eastern Corneria city  
1141 hours_

_-  
_

"Fox, I need to know something."

Gage pulled the cramped rental car to the side of the road and shifted into park. Across the street and further along stood the intimidating walls surrounding the Corneria City Army HQ compound, along with a gateway and guard who glanced at the car before returning his gaze straight ahead. The drive from the starport through the familiar, bustling city had been refreshing for Gage, perhaps even a bit of a vacation from the cramped Vanguard and many stressful missions, not to mention his captivity; he suspected that was some of the reason Admiral McGarret agreed to let him accompany Fox to Corneria, to give him a much needed rest since two Dagger operatives were now available to defend the ship in his stead. It took some convincing but the admiral finally conceded this one exception to his lockdown; even Krystal wasn't allowed to accompany them because of the high risk involved in the travel.

But the drive hadn't been as carefree as he had hoped. As he looked at the endless waves of people on the sidewalks, he became aware only of their secrets: the businessman wore a suit but he could be as slimy as the gutter he walked beside. The police officer walked the beat but who knows how much bribe money he could have stuffed in his pocket? The mother held her child close but how long until she betrays him? Even when he glanced in the rearview mirror, reflexively memorizing license plates and faces, he realized he felt more edgy than he should have. Everywhere he looked he saw shadows of the horrible story Fox told him on the flight from the Vanguard to Corneria, everything regarding the McClouds' betrayal and Dianus' true identity.

Gage turned to Fox in the passenger's seat. He could feel Fara and Falco looking at him as well from the back seat. "I need to know something and I need the truth."

"What?"

"We all know Dianus is the enemy." Gage had noticed long before that Fox still referred to her as Dianus and not 'mother' or 'mom' or 'Vixy' or any other familial name. He decided to follow in kind. "Some time soon, someone you know may have to deliver the killing blow. Dagger or Admiral McGarret, maybe Falco or even your friend Bill Grey. How would you be with that?"

"I'd thank you, you'd be saving me the trouble," Fox muttered, his eye averted out his window. "Like you said, she's the enemy."

Gage didn't know if he was just saying that to put on a brave front but he didn't want to push it; one doesn't survive long in special operations without knowing that you don't push a man who just teetered back from the edge. Without another word on the subject he shifted to drive and pulled up to the gate under the large arching sign proclaiming: "Cornerian Army Headquarters: Please keep distance and have identification in sight." The bored looking ursine guard seemed skeptical of the newcomers but one flash of a card in Gage's wallet and he straightened up with a crisp salute and clear voice. He waved them through and the Dagger captain coasted past the reception buildings, looking around with a small grin; it was as much a home as he'd ever known and he was glad to see it again.

He parked outside the tall building near the rear of the compound, a looming structure of shining metal and glass marked "Command and Administration." Though Gage and the two Starfox members knew their way directly to Pepper's office, Fara gazed around the compound like a kid in an amusement park, her eyes wide and trying to soak it all in. Fox and Falco went ahead to the security desk to sign in while Gage backpedaled to retrieve the fennec, who had lingered outside to look around some more.

"If I didn't know better I'd say you were casing the place," he said, stepping beside her and joining her survey of the well-landscaped lawns and tree-lined roads.

She frowned but even that could not dull the gleam in her eye. "I thought we were working on our trust."

"Relax, I'm just kidding. What's so fascinating? Never seen a military complex before? Looks just like a normal office complex, just with lots more firepower and better security."

"I don't know." Fara's frown seemed to hold more weight now. "Maybe it's the amnesia; maybe I used to love places like this. Or maybe…" She shook her head slowly. "To tell the truth, I've felt this ever since we landed. It feels like all of Corneria is exciting and new. It could be that I've never even been here."

"Well then you've got a lot to see. I guess when we go out on that date we'll start with the city. I'll try to find something more upscale than the places me and the guys usually go to…a place that doesn't require a wad of singles."

Fara scoffed and turned to enter the building. As Gage followed, he caught a glimpse of the loading dock at the far left side of the building. The three truck stalls were where the less exciting parts of military maintenance transpired; deliveries of office supplies, janitorial supplies, and food for the cafeteria and vending machines. One of the latter trucks idled in the first stall, the logo on the side affiliating it with "Garden Bounty" vegetable drink. Gage cursed under his breath as he followed Fara into the air-conditioned lobby.

"You say something?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Nothing. Just saw that they're replacing my normal stuff with that Garden Bounty crap in the cafeteria."

Fara giggled. "It's kind of funny picturing you sipping from a juice box or putting tomatoes and carrots in a blender."

"Hey, you think this all happens naturally?" Gage circled his chest and abs with his forefinger.

The two pilots had finished with the reception officer and approached as Gage finished the gesture. Fox rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah, we're all impressed. General Pepper's waiting in his office. Listen, I don't know how this is going to play out. I don't know what he knew about my parents."

Falco shrugged. "Just say what you need to say. Anything that could help us against Dianus is useful."

"I'm not just here for the rest," Gage added. "Consider me security 'til we're back on the Vanguard. But this is all your business; I won't interfere unless you ask me to."

With a nod, Fox handed a guest pass to Fara, which she slipped around her neck as the other two mercenaries had done. They headed to the cylindrical glass elevators and rode to the sixteenth floor marked on the elevator holo-projector as "CASOC," which Gage informed Fara was the Cornerian Army Special Operations Command. It housed the brass which he reported to directly, as well as General Pepper who was in charge of outside contracts and acting as liaison to the Lylat Defense Coalition. Fara nodded in sudden realization; she had heard some officers on the Vanguard sometimes mention "kay-sock" without knowing exactly what they meant.

After a short, winding walk through pristine carpeted corridors they arrived at a reception desk outside Pepper's office. The nameplate on the desk read "Spc. Sasha Soren" and the owner of the name looked up from her console screen as the foursome approached. She was a young feline with sandy-brown fur and a white streak descending from her throat into her crisp pale green dress uniform blouse. With a cordial smile she greeted them. "Good day, Captain Birse. So good to see you again, Mister McCloud, Mister Lombardi. Security informed me of your arrival, along with your guest. Go right on in, General Pepper's expecting you."

Pepper's office had always seemed strange to those who visited it, a curious melding of old and new. Though metal, glass, and fluorescent lights enclosed it, each piece of furniture hailed from another era. From the solid cherry wood desk to the brass lamps and fountain pen holders, the old hound did not hide his preference for simpler times, times beyond even his age. His nose buried in a stack of papers, he beckoned his visitors in and pointed to the soft leather chairs opposite his desk; there were only three so Gage opted to stand, after offering a swift salute.

"Welcome back to Corneria," Pepper said with a weary voice; the stress of Dianus' encroachment had apparently reached far beyond the Vanguard. He placed his fountain pen down and sat back, his attention now given to them. "I was quite worried after you called me, Fox. I'm glad you…I'm sorry, who are you exactly?"

Fara, seated to the left, realized his eyes were on her. She cleared her throat and spoke nervously. "I'm, uh…I'm Fara, sir. I've been working with Admiral McGarret."

"She's my guest, sir," Gage interjected. "She helped pull me out of a fire recently so the admiral let me take her with us for a little non-recycled fresh air. I take full responsibility for her."

That was good enough for Pepper; he nodded once and turned his eyes back to Fox. "Anyway, I think I know why you're here. Admiral McGarret filled me in on what you found on Venom and what his men found in this Papetoon facility." He rubbed his eyes and exhaled a long sigh. "I like to think this department has a special relationship with Starfox. I like to think I do also. I won't say Slippy's death hurt me as much as it did you but he was a good friend. I've already informed his father though I have yet to talk to him again; he's rather broken up. But…" He stroked the fur under his muzzle. "But you didn't come all the way here to talk about that. You came to talk about your mother, Dianus."

Fox's eyes narrowed. "You knew all along, didn't you? You knew my parents were in league with Andross."

"Don't be ridiculous," Pepper huffed. "If I knew I never would have hired you to go after Andross. Intel kept an eye on your father when Andross hired him as security. I learned after the war that Intel suspected all along that James McCloud's Starfox was working for Venom but they could never prove it. They kept me out of the loop because of my friendship with your parents and, frankly, they didn't know if they could trust me. They were very, very wary when I hired your team to fight in the war. You never knew it, but you were under very close scrutiny during your entire campaign. No traces were found of your parents and Peppy was deemed safe. The investigation was dropped."

"And my mother?"

Pepper hesitated. He gave a steely look but his eyes were elsewhere. "No one ever saw this coming. Even Intel took for fact that she died in that car bomb." His brow curled. "If I've felt this horrible sting of betrayal, I can only imagine what you feel. I thought they were dear friends. When I was told of the investigation I defended your family's honor tooth and claw. I never told you because there was no reason to with the investigation dropped. Now I've been made a fool. Worse yet, Dianus could be a real threat. Your mother was an intelligent, passionate woman, just like Andross. It's small wonder he seduced her so completely. The LDC is considering this conflict with the highest urgency." He hesitated again and said, "Naturally, your contract for the Vanguard's protection will not be renewed."

"What?!" Fox and Falco shouted in unison, sitting bolt upright. The avian continued, "You can't do that! She destroyed our home and killed my teammate!"

"General, listen to me," Fox said, his voice more restrained but his eyes ablaze. "I was raised by this woman. I'm the man I am today because of her and my father. I used to take pride in that. Do you have any idea what that means to me now? I have to confront her. I _will_ confront her. And I'm going to do it whether you're paying me for it or not." His tone softened a bit. "You're the only thing left from my childhood that makes sense anymore. I don't want money. I don't want contracts or press exposure or any administrative bullshit. I just want to stay in the fight."

The old general shook his head. "This is exactly why I never would have hired you for the war. This whole situation is eating me alive, you know it is. But I refuse to endanger the lives of my soldiers and the success of this operation with a highly emotional pilot. However!" He raised a hand before the two could lash back at him. "CASOC does not hold jurisdiction over naval commands. I hired you on behalf of the Army. The theater of operation near Venom is under the command of Admiral McGarret. He's a good man and an excellent officer. If he believes you're fit for duty than the final decision is his. Personally, I think you should sit this one out and cope with it for awhile, get your mind rebalanced. I tell you that as a friend."

Fox scowled. "I need to end this. The war isn't over. We beat back the Venomians, I killed Andross…but it didn't end there. Dianus just ducked into her shell, waiting." His jaw set. "And I don't care what name she calls herself now. She was once a McCloud and I will not let that name become the enemy of Lylat."

Pepper nodded slowly. "I'll do what I can to help but my first loyalty is to my command. You do what you have to do; you always have in the past and it's always worked out for the best, knock on wood. Don't worry about the press; everything regarding Dianus is strictly classified. I assume you won't be showing up for the anniversary party so I'll make up a good excuse."

Fara cocked an eye. "The what?"

The general opened his mouth to respond but was stopped when Fox smacked his forehead and Falco rolled his eyes, the event having completely escaped their memory. As Fox groaned the avian fielded the question. "I can't believe that damn thing is here already. It's this big party the government throws every year on the anniversary of the war's end. Black tie, gowns, ballroom dancing, speeches, fancy champagne…all that boring crap. All us Starfox guys were the guests of honor the first year and we're expected to show up every year."

"It was held in a park at night that first year," Fox added. "Starlight, warm air…beautiful. The park was rebuilt after wreckage from the war was cleared away. They even dedicated the park to me that night…McCloud Park." He grunted bitterly. "If only they knew what was really behind that name."

"Don't think like that," Pepper said in a demanding tone. "You deserved it, name or not. Well, I fully understand that Starfox won't be there but I have to be. I'm a keynote speaker along with Admiral Henriksen; he flew in from Katina especially for this party and he'll have my head if I leave him alone for the press and media to devour."

Fox nodded. The thought of a party or any joyous occasion seemed strangely foreign to him, as if that part of life had passed permanently. He knew grief was a temporary emotion, a lesson well-learned after his parents' 'deaths,' but he couldn't help wondering if this would ever pass. "We're leaving Corneria tomorrow as soon as we pick up Peppy."

"Ah, yes, that reminds me: Peppy's been staying with Beltino Toad at his lab near the asteroid belt. He wants to see you to pick him up there. Apparently, Beltino wants to talk with you as well."

Falco grimaced and glanced at his leader; his concern was reflected. "Sounds like a fun chat."

"I saw it coming," Fox said glumly. "What can I do? His son put his faith in me as team leader and he's dead. I was thinking of the best way to approach Beltino; guess he made the move first." With a light sigh, he rose from his chair. "We should go. A lot of Arwing maintenance parts were destroyed, gotta see our supplier for replacements. Thanks for seeing us in person; I didn't want to do this over vidscreen."

"Any time." Pepper mustered as much of a comforting smile as his tired muzzle would allow. "Take care of yourselves. Captain Birse, I'm glad to see you're recovering. Lovely to meet you as well, Miss...I'm sorry, I don't believe I caught your last name."

Fara tensed and swallowed. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind; her hostage codename, the closest thing her ravaged memory knew of a surname. "Phoenix, sir."

"Unusual name. Well, lovely to meet you, Miss Phoenix."

The foursome filed out of the office, leaving the general to resume scratching his antique pen on the paperwork. Sasha Soren smiled at them once again, offering farewells to each in turn with the grace and well-picked words of a seasoned aide. Gage lagged behind and leaned over the desk to ask her something in a hushed voice.

"Do you know if the cafeteria got rid of the old juice yet? I want to stock up if this Garden Bounty junk is taking its place."

The feline wrinkled her nose in thought. "I'm sorry, Captain Birse, I don't know anything about this. Odd; if there was a change, all aides would receive a memo so we could check for allergens and dietary compatibility. The quartermaster must be falling behind."

"Yeah. Thanks anyway." Gage's voice was suddenly distant and his brow had lowered to shadow his eyes the way it always did when his brain started working. He walked back to the elevator by reflex, unaware of his surroundings. By the time he reached the others, who had pushed the call button and were waiting for the elevator, they noticed the look of intensity on his face.

"Something wrong?" Fara asked.

"I don't know."

With a pleasant ding the reflective metal doors slid open. The ride to the lobby was quiet, Fox lost in his own thoughts and Gage trying to make sense of his own. He knew this feeling, a mental uneasiness when something was not right but he couldn't quite tell what. He waited for it all to click, for his gut to tell him whether he was on to something or not. Halfway between CASOC and the lobby he looked at his watch and his gut wrenched: click.

_Anniversary…_

_Admiral Henriksen…_

_Garden Bounty…_

_Almost 12:30…_

_Her obsession with fear…_

"Dear God…"

The others looked at him in confusion but he didn't wait to explain. Once the doors slid open again he shoved past them and ran across the lobby to the security desk where a guardsman was cycling through the holo-projector feeds from various security cameras in the building. Gage slapped his palm on the desk and shouted, "Corporal!"

The guard nearly fell of his chair in surprise. He spun around and, upon seeing who it was, straightened up. "Yes, sir!"

"Has General Pepper in CASOC taken lunch yet?"

"Uh…yes, sir. The meal carts for sixteen were just sent up a couple minutes ago."

Gage cursed under his breath. "Listen to me carefully, Corporal. Get on the horn right now and tell Specialist Soren to barricade herself and General Pepper in his office. I want all security to apprehend anyone in the building working for food service. You got that?"

The bewildered guard seemed to be trying to adjust to the sudden break in his boredom. He nodded with a higher measure of confidence. "Yes, sir."

As he turned to head for the front doors, Gage pointed at his confused companions who had just trotted up to the desk and said, "Stay here!" Without waiting for a response he ran to the doors and burst through, nearly breaking the glass. Warm air and sunlight bathing him, he took a moment to lift his right pant leg and retrieve a pistol from his ankle holster. He would have preferred to carry his normal sidearm in a thigh or shoulder holster but security in admin buildings didn't like exposed weaponry. Mentally groaning at the dinky weight of the pistol in his hand, he bounded down the steps and turned toward the loading dock. Sure enough, a worker in a white and green Nature's Bounty jacket was scurrying into the driver's seat of his truck.

"Stop!" Gage yelled as he ran toward the loading dock. The driver revved up the engine. "Shut it down or I'll use deadly fo—"

His words were lost as an explosion knocked him to the ground with unseen force. Lying on his back he gained a clear view of a massive, flame-laden gap on the sixteenth floor, shattered windows from other floors encircling it. He rolled to the side and covered himself as best he could against the shower of glass shards; fortunately, the blast blew most debris to the far side of the parking lot, setting off multiple car alarms along with the shock wave. Shaking his head to clear away the blur, Gage climbed to his feet and forced thoughts of Pepper to the back of his mind. He nearly fell again when sharp pain stabbed at his abdomen and right leg, injuries from his captivity not yet healed. He didn't stop to check if the wounds had opened again; he didn't care. The truck had his full attention as it peeled out of the loading dock and bore down on the obstruction in its path to escape: the Dagger captain himself.

Gage raised his pistol and aligned the iron sight on the driver's side of the dirty windshield. He couldn't see a face through the grime but the white part of the jacket showed enough of itself to offer him a bead. Two rapid shots pierced the windshield; the truck reeled and weaved drunkenly, finally halting when it planted the cab into the side of the C&A building with a screeching scream and a burst of smoke and glass. All was still for a few moments, save the ominous crackling of the fire high above. Gage slowly approached the driver's side door, pistol trained on it. He pulled the handle and slid back, ready to fire, but the driver's fighting days were over. Eyes wide in a death stare, the gray rodent sat drooped over the steering wheel, blood trickling down his arm. Gage pulled him back and checked a pulse just to be sure. He saw that both of his shots had taken the rodent in the shoulder; the particularly nasty head wound showed that the crash is what finished him. With a frustrated huff, Gage released the body and let it fall out of the cab to the asphalt with a wet smack; he wanted to question the pirate before putting a third laser into his forehead. "Leave it to the bad guys to not fasten their seat belts."

Wailing sirens grew ever closer. By the time Gage returned to the C&A stairs two police cruisers had been waved through the front gate and were approaching the wreck. Fara shoved through the doors and ran up to him, concern written on her face. She must have noticed a change in his movements due to the wounds, for she placed an arm around his shoulders as if to help him.

"I'm fine," Gage said, gently pushing her hand away. "Guess the doc was right. Where's Fox? Where's the general?"

"Fox went back upstairs to find General Pepper. My God, Gage, what's going on?"

"Dianus is expanding her operation." The fox shoved the pistol back into his thigh holster and shrugged off the shooting pains whenever he bent or stretched. He walked over to the police officers who had just stepped out of the cruisers, two heading toward the truck while one chattered incessantly into the car radio. The last one, a thin black bear, saw him coming and held his hands up in a halting gesture.

"Sir, please stand back," the officer ordered. "I have to ask you to remain on the premises for questioning."

"I'm a captain with the Cornerian Army. I know why this bomb went off and I know who the next target is. I need you to drop the questions for now and do as I say. Think you can do that? Call in to your precinct and tell them to send as many units as they can to whatever hotel an Admiral Henriksen is staying at. He needs to be taken into protective custody immediately."

The bear nodded, unfazed. "Sir…Captain…we already know. Admiral Henriksen's limo was attacked only ten or so minutes ago. We were on our way to assist when we saw this bomb go off. You don't have to worry, he made it safely to the seventy-third precinct. He's safe."

"How many officers do you have there? Any SWAT? Any reinforcements on the way? Well?"

The officer blinked. "Sir, he's already inside. Who would be crazy enough to openly attack a Corneria City police precinct in broad daylight?"

Gage narrowed his eyes; the question answered itself. "Let's go. I'll drive."

"Whoa, whoa, you don't have authority over the police. You can't just—"

Gage grabbed the bear by the collar of his shirt and pushed him back against the cruiser with a thud. With the sudden chaos and his searing injury pains he was in no mood to waste time with jurisdictional bullshit. Soldiers, military police, and ambulances had begun rolling into the vicinity of the C&A building; the base was secure but Admiral Henriksen was not. "The longer you stand there, the more your men will die! You have no idea who's pulling the strings here. I do. And I know they're gonna attack."

The officer who had been occupied with the radio had hurried around to Gage and moved to try and restrain him. Before he could try and inevitably earn himself a broken bone, the bear halted him with a firm gesture and looked at Gage with confused curiosity. "What are you talking about? Are you an Intelligence spook or something?"

"Just trust that if you get me to your precinct it has a much better chance of holding out."

The bear nodded slowly. He had the age and officer's rank of a man who'd been around the city a few times, one who knew that some rules could not exist without being stretched sometimes. And one who knew not to ignore a serious warning about the safety of his brothers in blue. "Sergeant, take over here. Assist the MPs and maintain a perimeter around the bomb site. The captain here will be accompanying me to the seventy-third."

Gage opened the "CCPD" emblazoned door as the bear hurried around to the passenger's side. Just as he was about to put all his weight on the pedal the sound of the back door clicking open and slamming made him look in the rearview mirror. Fara's eyes looked back, fearful but determined. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm coming with you."

"But you're a pilot…how good is your shooting?"

She shrugged slightly. "I don't really remember but I survived this long as a mercenary. We'll see if it all comes back to me."

Gage wanted to protest; he was all too aware of a nagging feeling in his gut, a feeling he hadn't had to deal with in a long time, one hazardous to his profession. But he didn't have time to be concerned with how he felt; an extra gun would be useful, end of discussion. "Fine. Hold on."

-

* * *

_Corneria City  
1235 hours_

_-  
_

"You're looking for Union Street. Here! Turn now!"

Gage threw the wheel to the left, sending the cruiser into a squealing slide from which he quickly recovered. Traffic was fortunately light for the time of day and having a siren and flashers was better than what he was used to driving with. Far ahead, through the canyon of skyscrapers and older, stouter buildings, plumes of smoke rose and blotted out sunlight.

"Oh, God, we're too late," the officer breathed.

"Just focus on right now," Gage replied. "Do you have any extra shirts? I don't want to get mistaken for an enemy."

"What?" The officer swallowed and composed himself. "Oh, uh…yeah, sure. There's a couple a' CCPD jackets under the seat."

Fara rummaged under the seat and handed one up front before donning one herself. The bear took the wheel as Gage squirmed into his and zipped it up. He yanked his low-yield pistol from his ankle again and waved it toward the officer. "Here, swap. Ammo too. Hope you got an extra on board also or the lady came along for nothing."

"Yeah, okay." The officer gave slapped his own pistol into Gage's waiting palm and followed with four energy clips, which the fox stuffed into the jacket pockets. It was still less powerful than what Gage was used to but a step up from his plinker. After typing in a code to open the glove compartment, he handed the cruiser's backup weapon to Fara along with a few clips. "Most cars also have a shotgun in the trunk if you can get to it."

"Right. How far?"

"A few miles. My God, my wife always said something like this would happen."

"Gage?" A glance in the rearview mirror showed Fara leaning forward, her voice mirroring her eyes' apprehension. "Is General Pepper dead?"

"I don't know, don't think about it now. Is there anything I need to know before we get there? How do I find the holding cells?"

The bear pointed ahead. "We'll be coming in the rear entrance. It's sort of an old place, one of the oldest precincts in the city. There's a chain-link fence surrounding the vehicle depot; a big parking lot where we keep all the cruisers and trucks. Lemme think…only been here a few times…yeah, there's a maintenance and repair garage built onto the back of the stationhouse. That'll lead into the station itself."

As the car sped closer, the scene of chaos became clearer. Some civilians had abandoned their cars, leaving obstacles for Gage to weave around. The aforementioned fence came into view, rising amidst overturned vehicles bathed in flame. The seventy-third precinct was nestled between smaller skyscrapers in a park-like setting of grass and trees, half a block unto its own. But any beauty of the classical structure was lost in the fight that had engulfed it. People in paramilitary gear and hooded jackets were trying to climb over the fence or duck through gaps created by the destroyed vehicles, swarming from across the street. Red lasers danced through the air, most disappearing into the sky or searing the buildings opposite the precinct from panicked suppression fire. Gage couldn't see a way to the gate through the flaming debris and dozens of attackers. Tightening his hands across the wheel, he hopped the sidewalk, stomped the pedal to the floor, and muttered, "Oh well, why not?"

The cruiser crashed through the fence in a shower of sparks and a cacophony of nerve-grating metal on metal; only a moment later it collided with one of the parked cars and halted with a jolt. It wasn't the most graceful entrance Gage had ever conducted but it got them inside. A few lasers kicked up the asphalt around them and burst against the side of the car but most of the attackers still focused on the station. As Gage unbuckled his seatbelt and shoved his door open he saw that a handful of police officers had taken cover behind cruisers near the maintenance garage entrance, keeping the attackers at bay with their service pistols and little else.

"It's a goddamn warzone!" the bear said, struggling out of his own belt.

"We have to get to that defensive point by the garage!" Gage pointed. "You go first, then Fara! I'll give you cover fire! Go! Now!"

As soon as the bear opened his door, Gage planted a foot on the ground, swung his arm and head over the roof, and fired. His first shot caught a ballsy one trying to climb over the barbed wire fence and knocked him back down to the pavement in a heap. He emptied the rest of the clip through the smoke in the direction most of the enemy lasers were firing from; some stopped, others didn't. Ducking down just long enough to reload, he smacked the rear door and shouted, "Go!" Fara burst out and fell flat on her face after a nasty stumble, evoking a loud curse. She recovered under the protection of more rapid shots from Gage and hurried to the officers, letting off a few lasers of her own. The fox gave it a minute then dared a glance to make sure the two made it; no dead bodies were strewn across the parking lot so he took it as a good sign. With a deep breath, he broke cover and sprinted toward the station. Lasers singed the air around him but he made it to the defensive cruisers and slid over one's hood to safety.

"Gage! You okay?"

The captain became aware of two things at once as he pushed himself up from his landing after the slide: a resurgence of the burning pain in the reopened wounds and the gentle, caring hands that held his shoulder and helped him up. Fara ducked next to him, beads of fear-sweat glistening on her brow. She twitched at each laser that smacked against a car or the station wall behind them but her resolve never broke. Gage let her help him into a crouch and said, "Still in one piece. Keep shooting back, I need to go find out who's in charge here."

"You already found him." The angry words came from a scowling elderly lynx who had moved down the row of blue-uniformed officers to confront the newcomers. Unlike the patrolmen and desk-jockeys around him he didn't seem particularly affected by the combat; he rather seemed at home in it, reacting to errant lasers as one would react to mosquitoes. Gage didn't need to be told that the lynx, with a white shirt, captain's ranks, and a surly face, had been in the military before the police. "What makes you think you can crash through my fence instead of setting up a perimeter to keep these animals from flooding the streets?"

Gage climbed to his feet and remained hunched over, his head still under cover of the cruiser he slid over. "The streets are your concern, Captain…" He glanced at the silver nametag. "…Marlowe. Admiral Henriksen is mine. I'm from the Cornerian Army and I'm here to protect him from—"

"Yes, I know. Lieutenant Baxter told me about you." Gage realized he never learned the bear's name and deduced that was who the police captain spoke of. "I don't like outside interference in police matters, but frankly…we could use the help. I still want that perimeter set up but my people are spread thin. My men just reported a breach at the front of the station." Marlowe looked the fox up and down, sizing him up. "Don't bullshit me. What kind of soldier are you? How much can you really help?"

"Tell me what needs to be done and I'll get it done." A laser blasted the roof right by Gage's head, singing his fur. He popped up and loosed a few more shots before returning his attention to the lynx.

"I have SWAT incoming from other precincts. With their help we can hold here and set up the perimeter to protect civilians. I'm going to pull most of my men back to help with that. I need you to secure the cell block since this admiral of yours is their target. Think you can handle most of the station on your own if I muster my people here?"

"I'll take care of it. Who's attacking anyway? Pirates?"

Marlowe shrugged. "No positive ID yet. All we know is they're packing some expensive gear. Could be mercs." He gripped the shoulder of an officer near him and pulled him away from the fight long enough to give orders regarding the plan. While he did that, Gage shot the locking mechanism off the trunk of the cruiser before him and retrieved the shotgun kept in mounting brackets. After shoving a couple handfuls of shells into his pockets he made for the garage entrance only to be stopped by Marlowe's hand on his arm and a stern warning in his ear. "It's close quarters in there. Watch your fire; if you shoot any of my men I'll have your ass on a platter."

"Don't worry. This is what I do."

As Gage entered the wide maintenance garage – large enough for ten or so hydraulic car lifts and the workspace needed – he became aware of a presence behind him and knew it was Fara. He didn't object; though he wanted her safe and was a bit worried about being accidentally shot in the back he knew she would probably be safer with him despite the danger. Officers soon rushed through the garage, bypassing him on their way to reinforce Marlowe. As Gage edged past them and climbed a set of stairs into the station proper he knew he was in for a fight. Gunshots echoed through the old-style hallways, the acrid haze of smoke wafted near the ceiling, and screams of both panic and victory resonated. His first encounter was in the locker room by the stairs where attackers in military vests wielding assault rifles, their backs to the door, had pinned down a female officer in the showers on the far side. Gage wasted no time; his first blast turned a head into a red cloud, causing the victim's comrades to wince and stare. Two more pumps of the shotgun and two more blasts and the room was silent. The officer poked her head up over the waist-high shower wall and offered shaky thanks.

With a simple wave, Gage left the locker room and continued toward the main hall. Bodies littered the corridors…some attackers, but mostly officers and even a civilian or two. He felt his blood pulse; Dianus again causing so much pain and destruction for her whims. He cut through the enemies like a razor through flesh, each shell leaving a satisfying aftertaste of blood and cordite in a way only a ballistic weapon could. The mercs or pirates or whatever they were had come expecting simple policemen as their opposition, not him; for Gage, fighting them in their lax, arrogant state almost took the challenge out of it. As he worked his way through the administration wing, an officer bolted around a corner before him and gasped before recognizing Gage's police jacket. The captain knew what would be following and raised the iron sights up a bit. Sure enough, two men rounded the corner in pursuit. The first one met Gage's shotgun shell head on and took a couple reflexive steps without most of his head before slumping to the ground. The other, half of him covered in his pal's blood, moved to raise his rifle but dropped it at the last second and raised his hands.

"Fine, cop. No gun, okay?" The attacker sneered. "Ya gotta read me my rights."

Another deafening blast erupted in the hallway; the shell took the soldier in the chest and knocked him into a bloody heap on the floor. Gage glanced over his shoulder to make sure the pursued officer was okay and said, "He's all yours," before stepping over the two corpses and continuing on. As good as it felt, he realized he had to keep his emotions in check. His hatred for both Dianus and mercs fueled him but the subdued realization that Pepper was most likely dead added an extra bit of vengeful bloodlust. He didn't feel remorse for killing the unarmed soldier; his job was to eliminate and secure as efficiently and completely as possible. He was a warrior, not a public servant. He used knives and grenades, not tasers and handcuffs. He didn't naively try to rehabilitate enemies; he ended their existence and thus their threat. No, he felt no remorse, but he knew that he should not have been delighted by it either. He took a moment to allow himself some deep breaths and stow his emotions away. As he had been taught in training, the tactical soldier's two worst enemies are lucky shots and uncontrolled emotion.

After a few more short encounters that ended with one quick, well-placed shot each, the enemies began thinning out as Gage and Fara neared the front of the station. The brief reprieve was interrupted by the sound of a hail of gunfire from further ahead. They cautiously entered he large main hall, a reception area in the old tradition of marble floors, sculpted buttresses, and a high ceiling with wooden stairs on either side of the reception desk that led up to the second floor. The wooden double doors at the entrance had been blown off their hinges and the attackers had apparently begun another push to overtake the few defending officers that Marlowe had left. Six or so took cover behind riot shields and reception desks while another few fired down from the balcony above. As attackers poured in, Gage headed toward the officers, firing what was left in the shotgun. Not taking the precious seconds to reload, he let the gun clatter to the floor and retrieved a pistol from a merc corpse at his feet. His own pistol in the other hand, he pulled the triggers with practiced ferocity such that his rate of fire was nearly indistinguishable from an automatic rifle. Unfortunately, his ammo count did not match a full rifle mag and he found himself searching corpses again. While tugging a submachine gun from under another merc's body, he found himself impressed that Fara was holding her own, her face stern and her shots accurate and steady.

The sounds of his rifle's shot ringing in his ear, Gage soon became aware of someone yelling for a cease-fire. The cacophony died and the smoke cleared, revealing many bodies and hazy red-and-blue flashing lights from outside. An officer with a radio headset informed them all that SWAT had arrived and pushed back the attackers, evoking some enthusiastic cheers but mostly just sighs and heavy breaths of frightened relief. Gage's job wasn't over yet; he picked up and reloaded his pistol before pushing his way through the officers to the one with the radio.

"Hey!" he shouted, gaining his attention. "I need to get to the cell block. Where is it?"

"Oh, uh, down those stairs into the basement." The officer pointed to a concrete stairwell near the back of the reception area. "Don't go down there, though. Radio chatter says we have perps barricaded down there with a hostage. We're waiting for a SWAT negotiator."

"Goddamn hell," Gage muttered. He turned to tell Fara to stay upstairs and saw that she was gone. A lump formed in his throat; had she been shot? He vaulted over the reception desks and let out a tense breath upon spotting her sitting on the floor with her back against the outside of the ring of desks. She sat limply, her eyes wide and unblinking. "Fara? Did you get hit?"

She didn't answer. Her eyes never flickered from their distance.

"Fara?" Gage crouched by her side and gently laid his palm on her shoulder. If she was in fear-shock as he suspected, he had to be calm. "Fara, it's over. They're dead."

Her muzzle moved and he realized she was mouthing his last words, "They're dead." She finally blinked and slowly turned her head to look at him as if just realizing he had arrived. "Gage…I killed him."

Gage glanced at the dead merc on the floor across from her, where her zombie-like eyes had been fixed. "You got quite a few. That's good, you know. They would've killed you and all of us."

"No." The vixen shook her head. "It's not that. That one was injured. He was on the floor and I saw him go for his gun. So I aimed down at his head and shot him. But something…" Her eyes welled with tears and her voice became raspy. "I've done that before. I shot him and something happened. Another vision. I don't know any faces or anything else but I know that I shot someone else just like that before, someone on the floor under me. And he wasn't holding a gun. He looked at me with eyes that begged me to let him live. And I shot him."

"Do you remember anything specific? Where you were or when?"

Fara shook her head. "God, Gage. Why can't I just stop remembering?"

"Don't dwell on it. You don't know enough about it. For all you know, you might have had just as much a reason to kill that guy as you did this merc." Gage hated to leave her but duty called. "I have to go get Henriksen. Let these officers look after you until I get back. Okay?"

She nodded.

Gage rose, suppressing a groan at the jolts of pain from his wounds. He headed down the concrete stairwell, his footsteps echoing in the old foundation. He reached the landing and found a few officers in the prisoner processing room, one of them poking his head around the corner leading to the row of cells. A canine sergeant with a riot shield and ballistic helmet approached him and said, "'Bout damn time. You the negotiator?"

Gage raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, something like that. What's the situation?"

"A group of 'em headed straight down here after they first broke through the front door. We took out most of 'em but their leader got to Admiral Henriksen, some Navy officer in protective custody. He's holding him hostage at the other end of the corridor, says he wants safe passage out or he'll kill him. You know, the usual hostage bullshit."

"Has he reloaded? How many shots has he fired?"

The officer blinked. "Uh…let me think…I heard him reload after he took the admiral and then…one, two…five shots at my men."

The fox nodded. "Mind if I borrow that shield, sergeant?"

"What? Oh…sure."

Gage took the transparent shield with "CCPD" painted on it and fixed his forearm in the brace. He flexed his arm a few times to test the weight and headed to the cells, pistol in hand.

"Wait!" The sergeant took a few steps after him. "He's been taking potshots at us. You sure it's a good idea to go in there?"

Without a word back, Gage crouched behind the shield and whipped around the corner. Dim over head lights highlighted a long corridor with old-fashioned iron bar cells on either side. He only caught a glimpse of two figures ahead before two lasers struck the shield, dissipating and causing his arm to buck under the pressure. He squinted through the now-burned shield. Admiral Henriksen, a faded black jaguar about as old as Pepper, was held in a tight arm lock in front of a lizard with a handgun. Gage took a few more steps forward, another laser hitting the shield. That sound and intensity of that shot confirmed his assessment of the model pistol the enemy was using; now all he had to do was count shots.

"Get the fuck back!" The lizard shouted. "I swear to hell, I'll splatter this old bastard's brains!"

Gage gritted his teeth; each laser made the muscles in his arm tighten, aggravating the open wound on his bicep. "Calm down! I'm here to negotiate! I don't think you want to do all this screaming so I'm going to come a little closer, okay?"

Apparently he wasn't okay with it because Gage only gained three steps before another laser halted him. "That's far enough, pig!"

"All your comrades are dead, arrested, or gone. There's no escape from this. Let him go and you'll get out of this alive."

"Screw off! You all won't let anything happen to your precious admiral. You'll give me what I want or face the press and tell them you let Corneria's hero die."

Gage took a couple more steps. "You won't kill him."

"Really? Want to test that?"

"You're a coward. You were paid to come here and kill a defenseless old man. The fact that you haven't killed him yet means you care more about living than completing your job. So no, you won't kill him. You know that the moment you pull the trigger I'll put two in your chest. So put down the gun like a good boy."

The lizard was silent, dumbstruck. "Y-you're nuts. What the hell kind of negotiator are you?"

"A really bad one. Everyone I try to negotiate with ends up dead." He took another two steps and earned two more lasers against his shield and screaming arm.

"Get the hell back!"

"I don't want you dead. I need information on who hired you. Drop it before this ruins both our days." _Two more shots…_

The lizard fired again. "You're wrong, pig. I can take you and the old man."

"Really? Want to test _that_?" Gage made an obvious motion of raising his pistol to a semi-ready position.

The taunt worked. The lizard fired the last laser of his energy clip, by Gage's calculation. The fox stood all, swung the shield out of the way, and beaded the iron sights on the lizard. The panicked merc pulled the trigger again and again but it only clicked on empty. Gage's shot was still tenuous with Henriksen's head in the way. At the last moment before the lizard moved to reload, the admiral whipped his head back, cracking the lizard's nose. The grip slackened and Henriksen dropped to the ground after delivering an elbow to his captor's stomach. His shot clear, Gage put a laser into the lizard's shoulder, sending him to the ground and gun sliding away.

Gage let the shield fall to the concrete floor and hurried to Henriksen's side. The old jaguar was dirty and bruised but still had the dignity to climb to his feet himself and brush himself off. The officers from the processing room ran up to them and secured the lizard, shooting astonished glances at the shield and Gage.

"Thank you, son," Henriksen said. "Who are you with?"

Gage hesitated but he realized he shouldn't have been surprised; the admiral had been around long enough to recognize a military approach. He looked around to make sure the officers could not hear. "Dagger, sir. Thanks for clearing my shot."

"You think I'd let some candy-ass punk get away with manhandling me?"

"No, sir."

"Well, you have my gratitude, son." The jaguar stepped closer and bore his eyes into Gage's. "But if you ever refer to me as a defenseless old man again I'll have you scrubbing toilet seats on a trash hauler for the rest of your career."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

Henriksen nodded curtly. "Carry on."

An officer escorted him away to the main hall where SWAT and medical personnel were evidently waiting. As the others helped the handcuffed lizard up, Gage saw his face clearly for the first time. He narrowed his eyes and looked hard. "You seem familiar. Have I shot you before?"

The lizard laughed, a humorless, guttural laugh. "Why don't you ask General Pepper? Oh wait, he's still raining down over six square blocks."

The lizard was hauled away and Gage was left in shock. The connection to Pepper, and thus to Fox, brought the face back to light. The foreboding only made the tragic day worse. If Dianus dug deep enough to add Leon, last known survivor of the elite Starwolf squadron to her ranks, then God knows how many other enemies were in her service.

-

* * *

_Mason Point Towers, Apartment 707, Corneria City  
1604 hours_

_-  
_

The apartment was nothing fancy: a studio loft near the Corneria City HQ shared amongst any Dagger member who needed to use, rent split between them. With their schedules and preference to stay on-base, there was hardly ever more than one of them there at a time. The décor attested both its lack of use and ownership by soldiers who cared nothing for words such as décor: white walls, a queen bed with a nightstand and lamp, a ratty old couch with a vidscreen on the wall before it, a kitchen with the bare necessities and questionably dated perishables, and pink panties Ley had nailed to the wall for no reason any of the other team members could figure out.

The entire expedition from the Vanguard sat or stood around the apartment; Falco and Fara on the couch, Fox leaning against the wall, and Gage on the bed taking it easy on his freshly stitched injuries. Hours had passed since the siege on the police station. Henriksen saw to it that Gage slipped out without question and an unnamed officer took credit for his part in ending the assault and hostage situation. When everyone met again, they swapped news. Police were still trying to ID all of the attackers, implicating many unlawful mercenary organizations. Try as they might to speculate how and why Leon had suddenly surfaced to serve Venom again, no one could yet understand. Fox grimaced at the thought of Leon resurfacing while the first good news of the day was given to Gage: both Pepper and Sasha Soren survived the blast, which went off prematurely. However, Pepper was rushed into surgery and his status was still critical. Doctors said it was too early to tell whether he would survive.

"Dianus won't like this," Falco said, breaking the weary silence that had fallen over the apartment. "Both of her assassination attempts failed. How did you know about them anyway, Gage?"

"It just hit me. Dianus loves fear and drama, like those cryptic messages she always sent the Vanguard. She's obsessed with Venom. What better time to make a statement than the anniversary of Corneria's victory? And what better way to demoralize the public than by killing the two high-brass officers credited the most with that victory? Pepper's tactics and liaison with Starfox earned him recognition and Admiral Henriksen fended off the second and third waves of Venomian attack ships at Sector Y until Starfox showed up to finish them off. They say his command saved Corneria from being overrun. When Pepper said he was in town to speak at the anniversary party…it just clicked. That and that damn Nature's Bounty truck being used to smuggle in the bombers."

Fara nodded. She was still shaken but at least was far more responsive now than she had been for the past couple hours. "How did that truck make it past the guard? Wouldn't they need a work order or something?"

"They had one," Fox replied. "As authentic as they come. Which means that Dianus has someone on the inside, someone who can create work orders and passes. If that's true…the entire military is in danger."

"Screw it," Falco grumbled. "Our only lead is Leon and the police have him. We don't even know how he was hired by Dianus. pathetic interrogation techniques won't get shit out of him. And I give him maybe twenty-four hours before Dianus has him silenced permanently."

Another disheartening silence fell. After a few minutes, Fox spoke up but his voice wasn't directed at anyone in particular. "She knows me."

Gage perked his head up. "What?"

"Dianus knows me. She was my mother. And she saw what I did during the war. She knows who I am and what I do. She knows there are boundaries I wouldn't cross. The only way I can beat her is if I start doing things she would never expect, things that would make me unpredictable and shake up her perceptions. Things that would hit her hard despite the cost."

His three companions shared confused glances before Gage spoke up. "What are you saying?"

"I don't think it's coincidence that a remnant of Starwolf is back. We need to know what Leon knows." Fox looked up, his eyes steel. "I'm going to break him out of jail. And I need your help."

-

**_-Chapter 13 Coming Soon-_**


	18. Lightning Crashes

[Author's Note: Wow, I just realized that this fic is rather lengthy at least compared to my second-longest, Mercenary Wars, which is somewhere around 65k words. I think this chapter will put One Death Away near 115k or so. Well what can I say, I've been having fun with it and I hope you all have as well. I wanted to address a couple things in this note, namely Gage and Krystal. Gage has indeed held the spotlight for more than a couple chapters now but I assure you he's not my sole focus. The camera will be shifting around quite a bit in the times to come. And Krystal is and always has been a tertiary character given my portrayal of her (which is obviously mostly for fun and far from "canon") but that does not mean she's useless. Trust me, nothing is in the story without purpose, just keep with me and see. Lastly, I again want to encourage readers who have not reviewed to reconsider. My stats page says there are quite a few of you out there. I write this story to be entertaining and enjoyed so chime in, let me know whether I'm succeeding in that, what you like and don't like. I don't want to come off like I'm fishing for reviews, I'd just love to know what people think so far. If you'd rather do that in PM form than a public review, my inbox is always open. =) Ok, that's enough from me. Thanks for reading everyone and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

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CHAPTER 13  
Lightning Crashes  
_CCPD Second Precinct, Corneria City  
1402 hours_

_-  
_

The scraped, beaten yellow taxi pulled to the side of busy North Thirty-Second Street, its languid windshield wipers fighting a futile battle against the heavy rain. The right rear passenger door opened and closed and the taxi swerved haphazardly back into the uncaring flow of traffic. Gage stood on the sidewalk and lifted his face to the rain just as a streak of lightning burst across the gray sky. He placed his blue service cap between his ears and adjusted his dress trench coat over his formal uniform, fidgeting. He hated the restricted feeling of the "dress blues" almost as much as he hated civilian suits.

CCPD Second Precinct loomed over him, larger and more modern than the station on Union Street from which he had rescued Admiral Henriksen. Gage didn't know why he was overly nervous; he had infiltrated and exfiltrated from places a hundred times more secure, staffed with bloodthirsty soldiers a hundred times more threatening than CCPD. Perhaps it was because he was willingly breaking the law, though even that wouldn't be for the first time; plenty of his former black ops would have landed a normal man in jail for a couple lifetimes on four planets.

No, he knew why he was nervous. If he failed, not only would they lose their only lead to Dianus but Fara and all of Starfox would become criminals. And CASOC would have to decide whether to throw Gage to the vultures or take him off active duty, neither of which appealed to him.

"I love pressure," he muttered, the words lost in the downpour. His heart beat a little faster. Part of him certainly was fueled by it, at least. In his mind, Fox's voice recanted the meticulously planned operation, the final briefing from the night before replaying in his head and keeping him focused.

_I know we're all going out on a limb here. Gage, you know as well as anyone that sometimes rules have to be broken. Falco and Fara, thanks for trusting me on this. I just know that if we're going to defeat Dianus we have to start being unpredictable. Make her wait for the next surprise for a change. She failed in killing Admiral Henriksen and General Pepper…at least, so far. The general's still critical. And now her pawn, Leon, is in jail. We all know she's going to have him killed before he can talk. We all know we can't legally have him moved or handed over to the army without a week of red tape. We all know that she expects us to sit around, scared and on the defensive while she strikes again. Well it's time to give her a little surprise. We're going to break Leon out ourselves and make him spill his guts about her._

Gage stepped through the glass doors to a spacious reception area, brightly lit, warm and quiet compared to the weather outside. He removed his hat and brushed droplets off his shoulders, the movements masking his eyes as he fully surveyed the surroundings. Every operational factor he anticipated was present: civilians waiting to report or claim, petty criminals being escorted around in cuffs, lax officers each with standard issue handguns, administration workers behind the desks, and security cameras covering every angle. The air was quiet and even a little tense, what with the attack on the Union Street station still fresh in everyone's mind. Not an optimal operational condition, but then Dagger was hardly used to optimal conditions.

"Can I help you, sir?"

Gage approached the reception desk where a female feline in a gray pantsuit greeted him with a practiced smile. "Yes, I'm Captain Birse of the Cornerian Army. You have a prisoner here, a Leon Powalski. Corneria City HQ believes he may have been involved in the bombing incident and sent me to ask a few questions. We also have reason to believe his life is in danger so I must caution him. Your cooperation would be appreciated."

"ID, please." The feline took his holocard and ran it through her console. After a minute or so of study, she handed it back. "Mister Powalski is a special case, Captain Birse. The bombing occurred at the same time as an attack on a police station here in the city. Have you been informed of that?"

Gage hid an ironic grin. "Yeah, I heard about something like that. My superiors believe the two events are obviously connected. We certainly respect CCPD's jurisdiction in holding Powalski. Those matters are for your captain and my superiors to figure out. All I need is ten minutes of standard visitation, nothing more."

The receptionist glanced up from her screen, her eyes narrowed in mild suspicion. "What kind of 'questions' do you intend to ask? This department does not stand for any kind of unlawful interro— "

He interrupted her with a forced laugh. "Oh, no, no. I'm not here to interrogate. These are just simple legal questions for our records. Most importantly, I must warn him that certain people want him dead. That knowledge might give your officers an easier time prying information from him." He let the smile linger, his eyes connecting with hers.

_Gage will go in first and try to get Leon into a secure visitation room. The police have no good reason to block the visit but in light of the recent attack they might be a little hesitant. He seems to think he can talk his way in, especially if the receptionist is female. I hate jeopardizing the operation so early by letting it ride on Gage's sparkling personality but…it's our best bet._

With an acceding sigh, the feline tapped on her keyboard for a few more moments. "Most of the officers in the city wouldn't mind being pulling the trigger on this guy themselves but we could use the help loosening his lips. The chief doesn't want him out of isolation for long stretches so I can give you your ten minutes and not much more. Wear this visitor's pass at all times."

Gage shrugged his trench coat off and draped it over his arm before placing the lanyard around his neck, blue card dangling.

She pointed to her left. "Follow this hallway to visitation room four and leave any weapons or sharp items with the guard. I'll send word for security to bring the suspect up."

"Thanks."

_We don't know where they'll send Gage so he'll have to wing it. On your way to the secure room, look for signs to emergency stairwells, fire exits, that sort of stuff. Any quick way to the roof. At this time Fara should drop the electromagnetic mine in the trash can near the rear parking lot where the power box is located. Falco's waiting in the shuttle at the rendezvous and I'm idling at the west side of the building in the stolen car Fara so graciously provided. Whatever you did before the amnesia, I'm glad some skills are still around. The time should be 1410._

As Gage neared the visitation room, every sign and intersection he passed burned into his mind, he glanced at his watch. 1408. With a grin, he made a mental note to brag about the effectiveness of his "sparkling personality" later.

The visitation room was nothing special and, thankfully, nothing surprising: four off-white walls, a bolted metal table with two uncomfortable chairs on either side, and a security camera in one high corner. Gage took the chair on the far side of the table facing the door and tossed his coat over the back before sitting. He didn't expect rapid service but after four minutes he glanced at his watch and frowned; his timetable wouldn't wait. Finally, he heard the ponderous shuffle of clinking metal from the hallway followed by the guard working the door lock.

Leon Powalski didn't look much different from their last encounter or even the files Gage had studied the previous night at HQ. True, instead of combat attire he wore a pale gray jumpsuit and handcuffs linked to leg irons. But his demeanor was unchanged. He walked into the room tall and steady, his green face every bit as confident and cold as his file photos. Gage knew this man was more than he seemed; a lizard who relished cruelty, knew no gain other than his own, and worst of all, was highly intelligent. But with that intelligence came arrogance, which was what landed him on the wrong side of Gage's handgun during the Union Street skirmish.

"Just knock when you're done," the guard said before shoving Leon down into the chair opposite Gage. With a last hateful glance at the lizard, he turned and closed the door behind him.

_Falco and I know Leon well. He's a smart guy. Don't get sucked into his head games. You have a next to nil chance of getting anything from him but try anyway while you burn time and make the police think you're really conducting business. At 1420, we see if Slippy's hacker friend is as good as he says. I met with him earlier and let go of a lot of money. He says he can put all visitation room cameras on a ten-second loop for up to twenty minutes before the lights go out. They're not stupid though…security will probably catch on to the loop in only a few minutes, depending on how awake they are. So Gage…prepare fast._

Gage glanced at his watch. 1415. "Good to see you again. How's the shoulder?"

The subtle grin Leon entered he room with hadn't faded. He answered coolly, as if amused by his visitor. "It aches quite a bit."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"I'm sure you are." The lizard chuckled to himself, his throat rumbling. "Just as I would be if you were the injured and imprisoned one. But I wouldn't be as merciful as these peons. Something tells me that you're not the merciful type either."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Gage held a finger up. "I think I just saw this movie last week. This is where you say, 'We're not so different, you and I' or something like that, right?"

"Ah, humor. Disappointing. I was under quite a bit of pressure when we first met in that cell block so I apologize for my rather crude conversational skills. But I didn't have the clarity to see with whom I was dealing. I wanted to kill you very much. I still do, admittedly. But now knowing who you are would make it more rewarding and yet more painful."

Gage placed his elbows on the table and propped his chin with his clenched hands. "You know who I am? I shouldn't be surprised. Of course Dianus would've warned you about me and Fox. And just because you psychos make such great coffee room conversation…why would killing me be painful?"

"Because I respect you, Captain Birse. Fox McCloud, his ilk…no respect. They fight but they are not combatants. They go to war but they are not warriors. You do what must be done. You do what others would deem evil because you know it protects those very same people. You don't answer to the mass media, the politicians, the drooling masses…only to what must be done. Just as I do. We both enjoy our jobs and the pain we cause our enemies. So yes, Captain Birse. Just as comic books and movies are ludicrous exaggerations of archetypical nature, so are some choice dialog bits. We are, indeed, alike, you and I."

Gage opened his mouth to answer but shook his head, waving a finger in a scolding manner. "You almost got me. I almost said, 'We're nothing alike.' That would've infringed a few copyrights. Here, how about this. You're right, I do what must be done. What _must_ be done. According to your file, you consider torturing people to be relaxing like a bubble bath. How is that something that must be done?"

Leon leaned forward in his chair, chains rattling and his eyes boring further into the fox's. "Have you ever shot an enemy in the gut just to give him a slow, painful death?"

Gage didn't answer.

"Have you ever killed a surrendering enemy? Have you ever looked at a dying man and felt a surge of energy knowing it was you who inflicted such pain and sent him to an uncertain afterlife?"

"Of course I have," Gage said, his voice stern. "And I will many more times. Because I know that most of the time I'm sending scumbags like you to Hell, with a well-deserved painful ticket. Sure, I know that not everyone who dies by my hand is evil. I've had to make quite a few tough calls. But I can live with it because, like you said, I do what has to be done. But unlike you, I do them for a purpose other than myself."

Leon raised his eyebrows and nodded, silent.

"What did you think, Powalski? That I spent this many years in specops and never met my demons? That these little head games Fox told me about would actually work?"

"No, Captain Birse." Leon stood, placed his palms on the table and leaned closer. "I simply wanted my self-righteous adversary to know that his touted 'purpose' does not erase the fact that he enjoys the pain and death inflicted on the battlefield."

Gage spread his own hands over the desk and rose to meet Leon, their noses inches away. "When fighting people like you, how can I not enjoy it?"

The lizard's throat rumbled again and he spoke in a near whisper. "When you look at me, Captain, you might as well be looking in a mirror. Except that I do not have demons, as you do. I accept what I am. The longer you deny your nature as a warrior, the longer you cower behind 'purpose' as an excuse for killing, the closer you come to falling."

Gage didn't back down. "Sometimes fire has to be fought with a different kind of fire. And I'm an inferno."

"Indeed you are. But mark my words. One day that inferno – and the demons that nest in it – will consume you. Unless you accept them."

"The fact that I fight the desire to be cruel and selfish is what separates me from you. That's why me and you aren't two sides of a mirror."

A tense few moments of stalemate passed between them. At last, Leon sighed heavily through his nose and slowly sunk back into his chair. "Think what you will. At the very least it was a pleasure to meet you again, a true warrior."

Gage sat back down as well but he was far from relaxed. He didn't know why the conversation had riled him at all. He was prepared for it and he certainly knew that he was no angel. Nothing much that Leon said was even new. But he couldn't focus on that now; he calmed himself and filed it away to think about when there wasn't a job to do. "Where is Dianus?"

"Ah, down to business at last. Venom, of course."

"No shit. Where?"

"I'm sorry. She wouldn't appreciate it if I divulged that information."

"She also wouldn't appreciate that you chickened out and didn't kill Henriksen when you had the chance."

Leon shrugged and attempted to scratch the side of his head with his restrained hands. "She should've given me more capable soldiers instead of those flea-bitten bargain-basement rent-a-goons."

Gage checked his watch. 1419. He picked up the pace. "How were you hired?"

"After Dianus so beautifully destroyed the Great Fox, I offered my reasonably-priced services. I hoped to see Wolf again as well.

"What? Army reports say you were the last survivor of Starwolf."

Leon laughed. "Lucky Wolf, invisible to Cornerian Intelligence. Well, maybe he's not so lucky. Andrew and Pigma died, good riddance, but Wolf and I lived to fight another day. He stayed behind after Andross fell, probably futilely hoping to get another shot at Fox. I went off on my own, thinking Venom to be a sinking ship. But Dianus is a busy little bee. She never much cared for our little band of pilots but she…well, let's just say she found a use for Wolf."

Gage's eyes narrowed. "What happened to him? Is he still alive?"

"I'm sorry. I've whetted your appetite because I respect you but you'll get nothing more from me. However, I do look forward to seeing the police's pitiful attempts at interrogation. I only hope I don't laugh too hard at the poor things."

"Oh, the police won't be handling the interrogation." Gage looked at his watch just as the digits flicked from 1419 to 1420. "Fox and I will be doing it ourselves."

"What? How can you—"

Leon only stared in bewilderment as the fox hopped up from his chair and began moving with urgency. Gage had no way of knowing if the camera was actually looping…but he'd know soon enough if officers busted in. He took off his dress shirt, revealing the top of a black jumpsuit and a light modular recon vest with all but the flattest pouches removed. It had added only the slightest bulk under the dress shirt, fortunately not enough to catch anyone's attention. From the inside pocket of the trench coat he produced a black balaclava which he pulled over his head and around his muzzle, leaving only the eyes exposed. Lastly, a pair of black sense-tactile gloves.

_Fara triggers the EM mine at 1421, knocking out the generator with pretty much zero noise. We figure you have four, maybe five minutes for a technician to check the main generator and activate the emergency one in the basement. Until then, you'll have a blackout except for fire escape lights. Weather's calling for rain so you'll have some help with the dark. Those toys you borrowed from the Dagger requisition room should give you the advantage. Get Leon to the roof. Two things are imperative here. First, no friendly deaths, obviously. Second, we must leave no trace that we were involved. After what happened yesterday this will be seen as a breakout attempt by Leon's cronies. Let's keep it that way. Masks on, no slip-ups._

Gage gripped Leon's throat and uttered in his ear, "Say one word and I snap your neck like a toothpick."

"What the hell do you – hrk!"

"I said shut the hell up. Do exactly as I command or we'll have to see just how much I enjoy killing you. You seem to enjoy psychoanalyzing me. Do you think I'd hesitate?"

Leon kept his mouth shut.

With a last glance at his watch, Gage skirted next to the door and knelt beside it, in one hand the door key which he swiped from the guard after handing over his "sharp objects" and in the other hand a silver pen, a little gadget that Ley always carried for undercover work. He waited, regulating his breathing in the hot mask. When the lights finally died with a sharp electric snap, his muscles tensed and immediately relaxed into instinct mode. He clicked the top of the pen three times and flicked it under the crack at the bottom of the door. A moment later a loud burst and blinding light erupted on the other side, lightning to match the furious storm outside. Gage unlocked the door and flung it open to meet the blinded and deafened guard; a palm to the back of the head followed by an ankle sweep and he was out like the lights.

"Stand up." Gage took the guard's keys and unlocked the lizard's leg irons, leaving the handcuffs in place. He let the keys fall to the ground along with the one he stole. "Keep low and keep moving. Try to run and see what happens."

Gage pulled Leon by the collar to a crouching position and produced one last preparation item from his vest: a HUD with light amplification which he unfolded, clasped around his ear, and lowered over his left eye. The dark corridor became bathed in a green-hazed whiteness that dulled to a more natural amplification. With no opposition in sight he headed into the hallway, pulling Leon beside him.

_Standard police procedure in a power loss is to remain at assigned areas and hold ground until given further orders. Nobody should stumble across your guard until the lights are back on so make sure you're back in time. Fortunately, we have a little edge to help keep our noses clean. Gage met with someone today, yet another guy on the long list of those who have suffered from Dianus. Gage suspected he might want to help…turns out he was right._

Lieutenant Baxter jolted and let out a tense breath as Gage appeared in the darkness beside him. The bear looked around and eyed the unconscious guard on the floor. "You remember the deal, right? No one gets badly hurt."

"You have my word," Gage replied, keeping his voice low. "You remember everything, right?"

"Yeah, yeah." Baxter wiped sweat from under the brim of his hat and fidgeted. "I heard a flashbang and came to investigate. I saw a guy dressed like the ones who shot up Union Street attack you. I tried to stop him but he got me also." The bear hesitated. "The only reason I'm doing this is 'cause a lot of my friends died at Union Street. But you saved a lot of lives and you were right in predicting the attack. When you drove me and that girl to Union Street I knew you were all business. I hope you're right again."

"I know you're taking a big risk but you're doing the right thing. We need Leon."

Baxter nodded. He tensed as the fox clenched a fist. "Guess we really do have to make it look real. Just promise me you'll get the monster that set this animal loose." He shot a hateful glance at Leon.

"You can rest assured of that." Without another moment's wait, Gage delivered a solid hook that rattled the bear's skull, sending him spinning to the floor. He didn't know whether the officer was faking unconsciousness or not but it didn't matter so long as it was convincing. He took Leon's collar in his hand and roughly pulled him along. "Move it."

They headed back to the last intersection in a rapid crouch-walk, shouts and commands echoing from the reception area along with more panicked voices which obviously belonged to civilians. He ducked into a side corridor that he remembered being marked with a fire escape arrow and hugged the wall, still holding Leon like a rolling suitcase. The station was bathed in eerie gloom, the storm outside pounding against the windows. He was thankful for the extra darkness as he came to a corner and peeked around, nearly smacking his head into an officer's leg. The officer was standing right in front of the fire escape door, leaning against it and sipping from a foam coffee cup. Gage could have easily taken him down and probably saved the coffee but three more officers hung about talking at the other end of the corridor. He couldn't risk the noise, not to mention leaving Leon while he dealt with them. Uttering a curse, he eased back nearer to the visitation rooms where the normal stairwell was. A grimace set on his muzzle. He'd have to risk the high-traffic route to get to the fire escape door on the second floor.

His breath shallow, Gage started up the two-tiered stairwell, almost to the landing before the stairs curved and continued up. His feet were silent as the air around them but there was nothing he could do about the occasional clink of Leon's cuffs or the lizard's heavy shoes. Just as he rounded the landing his fears were realized; two officers appeared from the second floor corridor and hurriedly started down the stairs on their way to some other post. Gage knew he had to make the first move. Shoving Leon to the ground, he hopped halfway up the stairs and made them both reel back in shock. The surprise gave him all the time he needed. He hopped, rammed his knee into the first officer's gut, and gripped his neck and shoulder when he doubled over, throwing him down onto the landing. He let the momentum drive his heel into a sharp pivot that brought his elbow back into the second officer's throat; nowhere near enough to kill but enough to keep him busy breathing for awhile. Nimbly dancing the next couple steps to get around him, he flat-palmed the back of his head, sending him into an unconscious tumble next to his friend on the landing. Finally, noticing the first officer was dazed but not quite out, the fox jumped down, landed in a kneel, and whipped his knuckle into the officer's temple, finishing the job.

"Impressive," Leon uttered.

"Shut up. Come on, move it, now."

The timetable was growing thin and the exposure was already more than Gage wanted. He hurried Leon up the stairs and toward the fire escape door. As below, he sidled up to the corner and peeked around. Fortunately, while there were again a few officers at the end of the hall there was no third wheel blocking the fire door just around the corner. Slowing his pace, he stepped around the corner and reached for the handle…

…just as his luck abandoned him. A violent bolt of lightning arced over the city, illuminating the window-sided hallway for a split second as brightly as if the overhead lights had flickered on. Gage froze but the damage had been done.

"Hey! Who's there?!"

"Shit." Gage lunged around the corner Leon in tow and heaved him through the fire escape door, sending him sprawling against the concrete landing just inside. He thought about just running but if the police called for backup there would be no way he'd make it back to the visitation room in time. Instead he charged the officers, prioritizing their hands rather than going for quick knock-outs. One switched on his flashlight while reaching for his gun as his friends went for their radios and sidearms. The guns were the first problems; as the first officer raised his so Gage was nearly looking down the barrel, the fox shot his hand out and rather than fight the strong officer's grip, he passed his fingers over the grip and hit the energy magazine ejection, sending the clip sliding from the handle to the floor. He whipped his other arm around to try the same maneuver on the next threatening weapon but his hand came up short, wrapping around the barrel. Thinking quickly, years of firearm mechanics study paying off, he tightened his thumb and forefinger, twisted right and pulled down sharply, removing the entire front of the pistol and the energy receptor along with it. The officer who wasted too much time with his flashlight dropped it and backpedaled while simultaneously raising his radio and trying to pull his gun free. Gage took the officer whose pistol he stripped by the lapels and heaved him into the other unarmed man, sending them both to the floor in a heap that would buy him a few seconds. He pounced at the last panicked officer, brought him to the ground, and knocked him cold with a well-placed jab. For good measure, he also brought his elbow down hard on the radio, smashing it.

When the other two officers recovered and scrambled to try and stand they froze at the sight of their attacker hovering over them. Gage didn't waste time; a swift kick put the closest one down for the count and the masked fox slammed the still-prostrate one back to the floor, his hand tightening around the temples until the eyes went glassy and closed. After disposing of the radios, he muttered an emphatic curse at the time wasted and hurried back to Leon.

"Hardly a victory worth celebrating," the lizard muttered, rubbing the back of his head which had apparently hit the concrete. "Manhandling a handcuffed prisoner and gaggle of simple doughnut-stuffed playthings. Really, where's the challenge?"

Gage answered by roughly jerking him up the stairs, continuing to drag him along. "Shut up and move."

A few more hurried flights of cramped stairs and the rooftop access door was finally upon them. Gage rammed his shoulder into it, sending them bursting through into the torrential rain. He pulled Leon to the east edge of the roof and looked over the side – the alley side, which had no windows. Sure enough, the car waited far below. The clock was ticking; Gage opened a pocket on his vest and pulled out a coil of thin high-tensile cord and a carabiner. He wrapped one end of the cord around a thick intake pipe near the edge and pulled Leon into place beside it.

"Wait…wait a minute now. You're not going to do what it looks like you're doing."

Gage ignored him and quickly tied the cord around his waist, looped around the legs, and secured through the carabiner.

"I said wait a minute! You can't do this! You've gone totally mad!"

_I'll be waiting in the car for Leon, hopefully no later than 1426. Gage will be packing the necessary length of cord though he'll have to eyeball it a bit depending on how far back on the roof a safe anchor is. As much as I'd love to see Leon splatter we need him first, so make sure you eyeball it right, Gage. After you're done haul ass back to the visitation room. The gear and mask you changed into are waterproof so if it rains the water should be evaporated by time you get back and get your clothes on. It has to look convincing as if the 'bad guys' took you out as well so give yourself a couple bad gashes on the head with something blunt. Then just act surprised and be nice and cooperative with the police. You'll know what you need to do to be convincing so do whatever it takes; everyone's mind will immediately go to Leon's cronies from the Union Street station attack. All you have to do is confirm them as the perpetrators. Assuming all goes well we'll all meet at the rendezvous…and I'll gladly take care of Leon._

Gage offered the lizard a parting grin under the mask. "Happy landings, asshole." He raised his boot and landed a solid front kick to the chest that sent Leon over the edge with a short shriek.

-

* * *

_1426 hours_

-

Fox stepped out of the car, rain immediately soaking into his own black balaclava. The hazy figure of Leon sped toward him and stopped short twenty feet overhead, the cord slacking and tightening back and forth between finally settling with its cargo a few feet over Fox's head. He hopped up and pulled Leon down by the ankle far enough to cut the cord, sending the lizard to the ground in an ungraceful heap.

"Come on, come on, move," Fox spat as he opened the passenger side door and heaved his unwilling guest in.

Bumbling inside with his cuffed hands, Leon shot him a heated look. "Is that all you madmen know how to say? That's you isn't it, McCloud?"

Fox slammed the door in his face and slid across the car hood to the driver's side. With a shift and a lurch, the stolen vehicle sped off down the side alley to the main road behind the police station. Fox tried not to let his fear and adrenaline do the driving; if Gage did everything right then no one should be suspicious yet he couldn't shake the feeling of being pursued. Just a rush, nothing more, he assured himself. He merged with traffic and settled into the speed limit, glancing in the mirrors every now and then to look for police who could have caught on. Nothing, not even a second glance from other drivers. With a relieved sigh to calm his pounding heart, he pulled off the hot mask and rubbed his eyes.

"I can honestly say I never expected the day you'd get me out of a jam," Leon said with a smirk. "What's this all about? You want me to fill the recent vacancy on the Starfox team?"

Fox's fist struck before he even knew what he was doing. Leon's head whipped back and his hands went to his bleeding mouth. With a deep chuckle, he licked the blood away.

"I'm not in the mood for your shit," Fox rasped through clenched teeth. "Dianus is going to kill you to keep you quiet but I need what you know. So you either start talking now or we hang out 'til we're all back together and I can have Gage show me how they interrogate people in black ops."

Another laugh, louder and more confident. "You threaten me with torture? I have three hundred twenty-one unique techniques created by me and I test each and every one on myself before using it on a foe just to be sure it's as painful as I hoped. I look forward to seeing what Dagger can teach me."

"Talking is the only thing that will save your life." Fox swerved, narrowly avoiding a meandering car. Some people just forget how to drive in bad weather. "And I know you care about that. I know all about how you ditched your assignment to save your own hide at the Union Street station."

"How gossip spreads. Don't you miss the old days, two clear-cut sides in a war, dog fighting over Fortuna and Venom? Now look at us. If someone told me you'd be breaking me out of jail in the near future I would have called it insanity."

"I'm counting on that. Dianus isn't the only one who can strike from the shadows."

Leon shook his head. "I've met Dianus face to face, McCloud. If you think you can fluster or rattle her, you're sorely mistaken."

"I'll worry about that, you just start talking. Tell me everything you know about Dianus."

"I think not."

Fox looked over his shoulder; he thought he saw quick movement in the rearview mirror. "Don't you get it? You mean nothing to Dianus! What reason do you have not to tell me?"

"I don't want to protect Dianus. I just don't want to help you. I'd rather sit back and watch the whole thing play out like an old theater tragedy."

His brow furrowed in anger and frustration, Fox took his pistol in his right hand and flicked the safety off. Weaving through traffic was still manageable with one hand, much easier than dodging asteroids and lasers in the Arwing. "You won't be able to enjoy it if you're dead. Start talking."

The lizard grinned. "You're no Dagger soldier, McCloud. You're not the type to shoot an unarmed man in cold blood. You wouldn't –"

His next words were stifled as the barrel of the gun pressed upwards under his jaw, threatening to blow his brain through the roof. Fox snarled, "You have no idea the week I've had. Killing you would be therapeutic." This wasn't working. Gage might be able to "extract" some information at the rendezvous but Leon laughed in the face of pain. A thought formed in Fox's head. He wasn't sure if it would work or even if Leon would care but he was running out of options. "You know, we shot you down twice. Twice. I bet you'd love to have me in your sick little torture room."

"Nothing would please me more," the lizard grumbled, his mouth still forced shut by the gun.

"I bet you wish you could go back in time and make me suffer before the war even started. You'd come to my house, kill my parents in front of me, then make me suffer a painful death."

A subtle grin pulled at the sides of Leon's muzzle.

"Or even better…I bet you'd force me to kill my own parents. You know how much I adored them."

"I like the way you think, McCloud. In another life we could've been partners."

"Well guess what, you can still do something like that. You want to make me suffer? Tell me where Dianus is."

Leon's eyes narrowed. He looked sideways at his captor, his head held in place by the pistol. A stretch of silence passed, only the pounding rain and rush of cars being passed around them. Fox couldn't tell what Leon was thinking but his eyes soon widened and he held a surprised breath. A curious rumble emanated from his throat and he realized that it was a deep, cruel laugh. At last he spoke:

"You have her eyes."

Fox swallowed and lowered the gun, keeping his finger firm around the trigger and the barrel pointed at him. "If you say anything except what I want to hear I'll start with your kneecap and shoot every three inches 'til I get to your head."

"Suddenly I feel like sharing a bit more, for justice and peace and the good of Lylat." The grin widened. "I'll tell you a bit, just enough to make it interesting. I'd truly love for you two to meet."

Fox pressed the barrel against the lizard's knee.

"Alright, easy on the trigger! Truthfully, I don't know where her headquarters is except that it's somewhere on Venom. I do know that she has a laboratory in some old ruins a good distance away from the old headquarters where you killed Andross. She's doing something there, continuing one of Andross' old pipe dreams. Something called Project Siren. After this job I was supposed to be assigned to something else called Project Atlas. I don't know what either is and I don't want to know. Wolf was assigned to Siren and…well, he's never coming back out."

"I thought he died in the war. What did Dianus do with him?"

"Find the lab and you'll see. That's all I know…or at least, all I'm willing to tell."

Fox looked behind him again; another flash of movement. "That's not enough. What's she planning? How do I stop it?"

"Even if I wanted to I couldn't say. I only met her once in some dusty old facility on Titania, Pape-something. She had a couple strange guards in masks and capes, very melodramatic I must say. Her lackey's the one who hired me. You want answers, talk to him."

Fox blinked. Papetoon…what was Dianus doing at a ruined, abandoned complex? "What's his name?"

"Shoot me if you must but I'm not saying. That would make this little game far too easy. I trust you'd be able to –"

The world erupted in light, blinding both of them and filling their ears with harsh noise. Fox jerked the wheel to the right, tires squealing as he blinked his vision back to normal. A large patch of the road had become a smoldering crater; he knew a high-powered laser impact when he saw one. The deep whine of thrusters blasted over head as a light one-man fighter streaked across the stormy sky. Fox tried to glimpse it through the rain and caught the sight of a design he had never seen: twin thrusters set into a sleek gray chassis, dual laser guns to either side of the cockpit. The sharp angles of the metalwork gave it a decisively artistic design, making it look almost like a knife with its blade tapering in front of the tinted cockpit. No identifying markings could be seen, at least none that were obvious through the storm. The fighter engaged its hover stabilizers, swinging around effortlessly and staring the car down.

"Oh dear God," Leon breathed. "You fool, you brought me right to her. That's one of Dianus' guards."

"How the hell did she—"

"Just drive!"

Another laser cut through the air, immediately vaporizing the rain around it and threatening to do the same to the car. It blasted the sidewalk by the road, causing more cars to swerve into each other and add to the already monstrous pileup. Fox floored it, weaving through the stopped cars and trying to lose the fighter behind the lower skyscrapers of the city outskirts. Checking each window or any sign of the fighter, he put a finger to his headset and activated voice. "Fara, Falco, we have a little problem. I think Dianus' goons are on to me. They must have been waiting for Leon to be transferred."

Falco's voice replied. _"How bad is it?"_

"A fighter's shooting up the damn highway!" A light flashed in the rearview mirror and Fox instinctively swerved just as a laser blew a crater into the road, sending the car into a momentary slide. "Damn it, I have to get off this road before this bastard kills someone. We're going to LZ two, I repeat rendezvous at LZ two. I'll be going through Prince Row, the industrial works."

_"Roger."_

_"This is Fara. I'm closer, I'll keep an eye out for you."_

Fox turned off the main highway and sped up to an overpass. He'd be exposed for a few seconds but after that it would be all warehouses and a maze of access roads to anyone who didn't know the area…which he fortunately did, having gone to one too many street races with Bill Grey during his Academy years. He kept his movements random, swerves and feigns keeping the fighter from gaining a solid lock. After a few more shots that were too close for comfort, the car shot onto the smaller two-lane roads of the industrial district, all but derelict after the economic boom of wartime wore off. Only a few more miles until the rendezvous at an old transport vessel shipyard.

If they could last that long.

"Alright, enough!" Fox snapped. "I want answers now in case this guy hits you! This underling of Dianus'…give me a name!"

"Fuck you! You get nothing until I'm safe!"

Fox swerved into a slide, squealing tires grating on his nerves, and drove down a makeshift road between two warehouses. He looked back and saw the fighter slow and turn the opposite direction, opting for a safe way around rather than risking the power lines and electrical towers. "One more chance."

"Or what? You're a squeak toy compared to dear old mommy."

Fox raised his pistol. For a moment Leon's eyes went wide as he stared down the barrel but the shot passed him, blowing the lock mechanism from the car door. Popping cruise control on, Fox brought his leg up and kicked the lizard into the door, pounding it open and nearly sending him flying out. Three more shots at the hinges and the door fell away, tumbling and spinning in a shower of sparks behind him. Leo's hands flailed as he tried to pull himself back up but Fox gripped his collar with his free hand and pushed him back down, the lizard's head poking out into the rain.

"Give me a name!" Fox yelled over the fury of wind and water in his victim's ears.

"You're goddamn insane!"

"It's not so easy steering with one hand when I'm stretched out like this!" He eased the speeding car toward the high stone wall that bordered the access road, letting Leon appreciate the deadly blur that passed just a couple feet from his skull. "Talk before this wall gets some new graffiti!"

Leon only gaped, panting, kicking, and pulling at the hand that held him down. A sudden look of fear prompted Fox to look up and notice a steel walkway over the road, the girders standing just inside the wall. He let the tension build up and tugged Leon's head back in just as it scraped against the side of the car, spraying them with sparks. Giving him a moment to appreciate how close his head had come to being a permanent fixture of the walkway, Fox pushed him back down. "A name! Now!"

"Go on! Give me the pain!"

Fox didn't move. He stared at Leon's protruding head, felt the body buck under him as it tried in vain to pull back into the car. He could see it play out before him, the lizard's head scraping against the wall, the rough stone tearing flesh and blood away and evoking a scream of pain. He wanted to do it. He wanted to do it so much if only to finally share his own pain with his enemies. But he realized that he walked a fine line. He broke Leon out; it was unexpected and further down the darker side of his profession than he had ever gone. But this would push him further. He would be indistinguishable from the man he tortured. And when he finally confronted Dianus, finally sought to wrest control of the McCloud family's honor, he would have no reason left to do so for he would be no better. Reluctantly, he eased the car away from the wall.

""You don't talk," Fox finally said, "then I have no use for you. If the fall doesn't kill you Dianus' guard will. Maybe I don't like murder but I bet the pilot does."

"Heramus!" Leon finally shouted through his teeth. "His name's General Heramus, he has a ship called the Nyx near Sector Z!"

Surprised, Fox pulled him back into the car and pushed him roughly into his seat. With a laugh, Leon wiped rain from his face, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. After a moment he relaxed with a sigh…and buckled his seat belt. "You know," he said, "I always planned on giving you the name. I just wanted to see how far you'd go."

"Yeah, right."

Leon shrugged. "Disappointing, really. I honestly thought you'd shove me into the wall. I suppose I was right when I spoke to your friend Gage Birse earlier. He has potential but you don't."

"Shut the hell up. Gage could never be a psycho like you."

"I suppose time will tell."

Fox stopped short at the end of the access road before it merged with a main road that ran along a wide murky, polluted river. A mile or so away to the left, built out over the water on a pier dating back to when it was used for archaic boat shipping, sat the abandoned shipyard landing pad, rust-brown and one wobbly support beam away from collapsing into the river. With the goal in sight he allowed himself to relax a bit but his heart was jump-started again as he pulled out onto the road only to be greeted by laser fire from the right. He gunned it just as a second blast cut through the roof, leaving a glowing metal-ringed slice just over his head, hissing as rain washed over it and into the car.

Fara's voice crackled in his ear. _"Fox, I see you! Falco's almost here, just keep going and I—"_

One last blast erupted in front of the car, the force and the mangled road throwing the car head over heels into the air. The world spun in front of Fox's eyes before coming to a violent halt, the vehicle descending with a crash onto its roof and grinding to rest. His head swimming, Fox felt panic rise in his chest. The pilot had an easy shot now; why they weren't a ball of flame already he didn't know. He pulled his seatbelt loose and braced himself for the short plunge onto his head, which wouldn't have been so bad if not for the broken glass. Groaning in pain and uncertain anticipation of the killing blow, he put all his strength into climbing through the shattered door window and out onto the rain-soaked street.

_"Fox! Fox! I'm on my way!"_

He flopped onto the road and pulled himself into a sitting position. No sound of cannon fire or thrusters or anything except the rain. As his vision cleared and pounding head settled he became aware of another presence on the road. The beautifully frightening ship had landed only a hundred feet from the car, the metal glinting even in the gloomy daylight. There was something familiar about, something Fox couldn't place. But as the cockpit canopy opened and the pilot descended to the road he recognized it – the distinctive flair of Arwing design. The fighter was definitely not as advanced as an Arwing, not in the way it maneuvered or fired and the shield emitter behind the cockpit was of an older Venomian military design…but whoever designed it definitely yearned for it to be, so much so that certain purely visual aspects were copied.

"Nice try," Fox mumbled. He went for his pistol and only slapped his soggy pants, the holster empty. He never put it back. The gun must have flown from his hand when they crashed. Panic continued to rise.

The pilot walked closer, cool and casual. To his surprise, Fox saw from the swaying hips and curves that the pilot was female. Leon's description echoed in his mind as the pilot took that very same shape: a black hooded cloak flowing behind her in the stormy wind, a black reinforced mask over her entire face with dull green lenses over the eyeholes. She wore a tight black padded combat suit with green inlay at the joints and seams. A new kind of fear made Fox's blood run cold; a primal aversion to a hidden and very confident nemesis.

Without a word or moment's hesitation, the pilot took a light pistol from her thigh holster and put three lasers through the shattered windshield. Leon went limp, two shots in his chest and one through the head. The gun then changed targets to Fox. The two stared at each other for half an excruciating minute, Fox taking short breaths and preparing himself for the burning impact. At last, the shooter lowered the gun and spoke, her words distorted through the mask. "I am not authorized to kill you. That is for the mistress alone, as she has commanded."

Dianus wanted to kill him personally. The new knowledge should not have surprised Fox, just as it should not have wrenched his heart. He knew his mother was Dianus. Why did it still hurt to hear that she wanted to kill him? He knew he owed his survival to her desire – the pilot's careful shots, landing just so she could take out Leon – and perhaps he could use this tactical failing to get close to her.

"Do not test her patience," the pilot warned. Her head twitched, like a bird of prey spotting movement in the brush. Quick as the lightning above, she spun and fired toward her own fighter, lasers bouncing off the wings and skids. Fox struggled to his feet and spotted movement behind the fighter, two feet which suddenly disappeared. Fara's head popped up over the rear thruster where she hung on, firing over the top toward the black-clad assailant. The pilot stepped back toward the fighter, letting off a shot every time Fara showed even an inch of herself. When her gun ran dry and she ducked to reload, the vixen hopped onto the fighter for a better shot and let loose. But the pilot was no slouch; she rolled forward under the protection of the nose to continue reloading just as Fara's own gun ran dry. She didn't stop to reload; instead she slid down the sleek metal in front of the cockpit and swung under the nose, kicking the pilot to the ground. Fox agape at the sudden fighting prowess in Fara, the two women exchanged blows and deft parries, neither giving an inch.

Fox wasn't about to just stand by. He picked up a mangled piece of metal from what used to be the engine block and ran into the fray. He managed one solid swing that was anticipated and ducked before being kicked back to the ground, the pain compounding with the injuries from the crash. Just before he attempted to climb back to his feet, the two women grappled in a move that left him stunned. The pilot twisted Fara's arm and attempted to kick out her knee but the vixen broke free and danced away. Before Fox could shout a word of warning, the pilot lunged at her, her arm cocked back in preparation for a strike. Fara's eyes widened in fear and she put every effort toward grabbing the attacker's wrist before it could strike. A strange turn of events followed, with Fara tugging and pulling at the pilot's wrist rather than trying to distance herself for a counterattack. Finally, part of the black uniform came free, a bracer of the same color that had blended in to the rest of the combat suit. It fell to the ground and the impact triggered a hidden knife to jut forth.

Fox became aware of sirens in the distance and the women perked up as well. The pilot used the distraction to land a hard blow against Fara's muzzle, sending her to the ground. The vixen, rather than trying to continue the melee, dove for the freshly reloaded pistol the pilot had dropped when she had been kicked. She flipped onto her back and fired, lasers chasing the masked woman as she clambered onto the fighter. Just before entering the cockpit, the woman glanced at Fara and spoke with the most venomous hatred Fox had ever heard as she shouted a single word: "Traitor!"

Fara continued firing as she jumped to her feet and the fighter took off, its thrusters searing the air around them as it rose and accelerated across the river and high above, soon disappearing into the storm clouds. Letting out a relieved breath, Fara let the pistol slip from her hand and turned away…

…only to be blinded by a flash of pain as Fox's fist knocked her back to the wet pavement. His foot firmly planted on her chest, he held his own pistol which he found in the wreckage, the iron sights beaded right between her shocked eyes.

"Fox!" Her left cheek was in agony, first from the pilot's strikes and now from this. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You…" he uttered, nearly inaudible from the anger choking his throat. "I knew it all along. You're one of Dianus' minions."

Fara blinked. "What are…how…?"

"Shut up!" His finger tightened around the trigger. "How did you know about that hidden blade? You knew it was there, that's why you stopped it. How did you suddenly learn to fight so well? All that 'memory loss' suddenly coming back to you? Why did she call you traitor?" His eyes narrowed. "You were one of them, weren't you? You were one of Dianus' personal guards."

"No…no, I…" Fara hesitated, her mind trying to digest the words. She hadn't noticed during the fight. She was just reacting, that's all. "I don't know. I was a mercenary, of course I'd know how to fight. Maybe I fought one of them before, maybe that's why I know about the knife." Her eyes welled with frightened tears, not because of the pain or threat of death but because the fight had brought back so many fragments of memory. "I…I recognized that uniform. She has other weapons on there besides the knife. That fighter is called a Hera II, designed by Dianus. Oh God…oh God…why do I know that?"

"Dianus set up your capture and rescue to get you on board the Vanguard."

"No…no, that's not true!"

"What are you here for? What does she want you to do?!"

"I'm telling you it's not true!" Fara's face contorted in anger and fear. "I may not remember much of anything for certain but I know…I _know…_that I would never work for Dianus! The amnesia is real, I swear!"

_"Fox! Cops are on their way, I'm coming to you."_

Fox looked toward the landing pad and saw Falco abort his landing in the transport craft and instead make a beeline toward him. With the sirens growing ever closer, the transport hovered a couple feet off the ground, the side door open. Fox pulled Fara to her feet and shoved her in, following quickly so he could keep the gun trained on her. As the avian fired up the main thrusters and climbed away from the city he glanced over his shoulder at the personnel area and noticed the tension. "What's going on?"

"Are we clear?"

"Yeah, I think so. We're out of visual range and I'm not picking us up on any APB postings."

Fox slid the door shut, drowning out the storm. "Get Gage on the line."

"Uh, you sure? He might not be able to talk yet."

"Try anyway."

After a minute of low-pitched clicks and pops in his ear of the comm network trying to dial Gage's earpiece, the white noise gave way to life. _"Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Is something wrong?"_

"Gage, it's Fox. Can you talk?"

_"For the moment. I'm in Baxter's office. We pulled it off, no problem…hang on…oh quit complaining, it was a little tap, put some alcohol on it."_

"Gage, listen. Leon's dead. I got some information but…we ran into one of Dianus' personal guards. Very elite. Fara fought her. She knew where stuff was and…man, you should've seen her fight. The guard also called her a traitor. I think she's been playing us. She might be one of these guards."

Fara just sat on the floor against the still-folded seats built into the sides, hugging herself and shivering with distant eyes.

After a silent moment, Gage said with stern certainty, _"That's not possible."_

"She claims she still has amnesia, that she doesn't know anything of substance. Gage, I know you like her and want—"

_"No, Fox, don't. It's not possible. I deal with bad guys for a living, I can see through bullshit. I don't see any in her. She saved my life. She helped rescue me. She's had every opportunity to sabotage the Vanguard. She could have killed Henriksen. She could have sabotaged the breakout today."_

"Gage, stop! I didn't expect this from you of all people. You know better than anyone that nothing's impossible, that anyone can be the enemy. It's a lesson I've had to learn recently too." Fox took a calming breath and lowered his voice. "Look, I know her behavior doesn't support that she's a traitor. But we've seen how Dianus works. She could be helping us just to get closer for something bigger, something that could cripple us worse than killing you or Henriksen or McGarret."

_"I know." _A tired sigh. _"I know. But I'm not abandoning my gut feeling. I'm not naïve, Fox, I just know this isn't as simple as traitor or ally. There's something else going on, something we don't know yet, not even her. Look at her right now, look into her eyes and tell me for certain that she is or used to be Dianus' soldier."_

Fox looked up. She still sat, still shivering with soaked clothes and fur, still bleeding from a cut over her eyes. Somehow, Fox felt like he could see the tears through the rainwater. "There's probably something we don't know yet. But I'm not taking my eyes off her until we know."

_"I wouldn't have it any other way. I should be out of here later tonight, we'll all meet up and debrief at the apartment."_

Fox clicked the comm unit off and slumped into a seat, his heart slowing for the first time in hours as they left the storm behind.

-

* * *

_LDC Vanguard, bridge  
1507 hours Corneria City time_

-

"Scramble Bulldog Unit!" McGarret commanded as he stared the long-range scan report that had been transferred to the main bridge viewscreen. His eyes transfixed on the outline of the Arwing, he muttered, "You won't get away this time."

"Sir!" Ensign Dugan glanced back from one of the processing workstations on the lower tier of the bridge. "It's the same readings as the last time we saw this Arwing. No familiar signature, no ion trails showing where it came from, and we're not even sure if it's manned. Life signs keep fluctuating."

"Bulldog Unit is jumping there now, sir!" another bridge technician reported.

"Tell them to follow and hail it but to remain on high alert. This thing has taunted us enough. I won't let it disappear this time." McGarret watched as the Arwing simply stood with minimal movement, like a dead fish on the ocean surface. The tactical layout showed Bulldog's jump approach minutes later on an intercept course.

_"This is Commander Grey," _the bridge comm reported. _"Bulldog has exited jump speed a hundred miles away from the target. Approaching on high alert. Stand by."_

McGarret stroked the fur under his chin.

_"Fifty miles. Stand by."_

He took air in through his nose and held it.

_"Ten miles."_

The Arwing moved, yawing away toward a vector between Venom and Sector X. Its thrusters engaged and it disappeared from visual. The tactical display compensated, showing a three dimensional scan layout with orbs representing Bulldog in pursuit of the unknown white orb.

_"Target is attempting to flee. In pursuit. We have it in visual range."_

Just as Bulldog approached, the distance counter showing two miles, the white orb vanished.

_"Whoa…"_

"What happened!" McGarret spat. "Report!"

_"Sir, the target disappeared."_

"That's unacceptable. Switch to cloak scanners and cover vectors—"

_"Sir, cloak scanners have been activated the entire time. We detected no energy spikes or low key resonance indicating cloak activation. The Arwing did not cloak. I saw it…I'm sure I saw it…then nothing."_

Admiral McGarret lowered himself into the captain's chair with a heavy breath. Was Dianus flaunting some kind of new technology, a new cloaking device to go with a functional Arwing? That was worst case scenario. At best, a new ghost story would circulate and spook the crew.

"Ensign, keep two probes at that location at all times. Tell Bulldog to return to base."

-

**_-Chapter 14 Coming Soon-_**


	19. Unbreakable

[Author's Note: This was one of my more difficult chapters so I hope you all like how it turned out. Thanks very much as always to my readers and especially reviewers for your support. Kryssie, great to hear from you again, been way too long. You gotta get an account or something so I can PM you. =) Thanks for reading everyone and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 14  
Unbreakable  
_Cornerian orbit_  
_1044 hours_

-

"Holy Hell." Falco's words echoed Fox's own thoughts.

As the shuttle entered the vicinity of the asteroid belt, the Lylat Travel Commission's automatic hazard warning flashing across the flight console, the two teammates sat bolt-upright in the pilot's and co-pilot's chairs and locked their gazes ahead. Before the expanse of life-threatening rock and debris, their destination grew ever closer. To call it simply a space station would be like calling an orbital artillery satellite simply a gun. The main spire stretched easily half the length of the Vanguard with four capital ship hangars around it, each of which could easily house the former Great Fox. Dozens of smaller hangars jutted out from the spire in different sections above and below them.

"Looks like old man Toad's doing alright for himself," Falco continued.

"What? Oh yeah, I forgot, you've never been here. Seems he added on quite a bit since I was last here. The Great Fox was built in one of those hangars, y'know."

"Really? I dunno…you sure this is the place?"

Fox tapped the approach vector readout on the console, which showed diagrams and the name _Toad Development Enterprises, LLC_. "Check for yourself."

"Well, shit. Every time you all said you were gonna visit Slippy's father I thought you meant some stuffy penthouse in the city. If I knew this I might'a actually tagged along once or twice."

Fox cocked an eyebrow. "Wait a minute. You mean all those times you said you couldn't go because you had to see some people about business…"

The avian grinned. "I _did_ have to see people. We still have some fans you know, can't let them down."

"Really? So we're broadening the term 'fan' to mean your hooker of the month?"

"They prefer to be called 'escorts.'" Falco glanced over at his friend and his demeanor turned more somber. Despite the jokes, Fox's face was deadly serious, his muzzle set in a stone frown. "Hey, you alright?"

"Sure."

Falco sighed. "I'm no good at this shit, Fox. If you got a problem just spit it out or keep it buried."

"I, uh…" With a swallow, Fox averted his eyes from the space station and his voice became less distracted. "I'm just not looking forward to talking with Beltino."

Falco nodded slowly and remained silent, suddenly uncomfortable in the two-man cockpit. If only to break the tense moment, he shot a quick glance over his shoulder to the personnel area of the transport where Gage sat beside a handcuffed Fara. He didn't know what to say. So few were the times when he and Fox were alone without Slippy to pick on or Peppy to offer the advice. Finally, he cleared his throat and offered, "If it makes any difference, I don't think you let Slippy down. The team's survived a lot together. I'm surprised it took this long for one of us to get our card punched. I think if the little green runt were here he'd say the same thing." He looked to Fox, whose face remained unchanged. Before he knew it, he added, "Only much squeakier."

A short, tense laugh burst from Fox's mouth and the avian shared in it. Fox shook his head with a tentative smile. "I'm really gonna miss him. What about you? How you holding up?"

"I don't know. We've been too damn busy for me to really think about it. I just want to keep going after Dianus until we nail that bitch to the wall." For a moment he forgot he was talking about his friend's mother but Fox didn't bat an eye. "Maybe then we—"

A burst of static and the illumination of the comm light interrupted him. The cockpit filled with a female voice, perfectly balanced between cordiality and business. _"This is TDE Research and Development Station Alpha hailing unknown shuttlecraft. You are on approach in private space. Please state your intentions or divert course immediately."_

"This is Fox McCloud, accompanied by co-pilot Falco Lombardi, Cornerian Army officer Captain Gage Birse, and one guest. Our teammate Peppy Hare is onboard your station. Requesting permission to dock."

A brief silence. _"Permission granted. Sending waypoint to your navigation system. Enjoy your stay as a guest of Toad Development Enterprises."_

Falco grunted as the comm channel closed. "Exactly how rich is this guy?"

"Beltino? He was a military researcher before the war and a good friend of Peppy's and my father. The Great Fox was his baby. After its publicity during the war he became famous in technology and aeronautical fields and other egghead types. Grants and investments came rolling in, especially from planetary militaries and the LDC. Let's just say he'll never worry about missing a meal."

"My God. Why the hell didn't we just go to him for money during the rough patches?"

Fox grimaced and his words dripped with bitterness. "My father told me Starfox was only as good as the money it earned for itself. Nice saying. I guess he wasn't so noble when choosing his allegiances."

The cockpit fell silent again; Falco left his other questions unasked.

The shuttle made its way toward the center of the spire, below the capital ship hangars. As they approached the gleaming metal of the station's hull, Fox could see multiple docking stations, each with an umbilical extension to meet its spacecraft. He followed the luminescent waypoint projected on the canopy to his designated umbilicus, marked with "N7." He cut throttle and raised the sensitivity of the controls to help with the more precise maneuvering involved.

"Fox?"

Gage's voice behind him startled Fox out of his concentration. "Dammit. What? I'm a little busy here."

"Gimme a break, I could dock this thing and I don't even have a pilot's license."

"Yeah? A hundred creds says you can't."

"Really? Scoot over—"

"Get the hell away from me you psycho, I'm joking. One wrong move could kill us all. What'd you come up here for?"

Gage glanced back at Fara, who fidgeted and shifted her hands where they remained cuffed behind her back. "Look, I know Fara's a question mark right now but can we take the cuffs off when we bring her in there?"

"Question mark?" Falco interjected. "No, she was a question mark two days ago, before she started knowing all about the enemy's gear and fighting techniques."

Fox nodded. "He's right. It's obvious there's a connection to Dianus and her personal guards. And after seeing her fight like she did…forget it, she stays cuffed."

"After all she's done for us I can't believe you're going to cart her in there in chains like a goddamn prisoner."

The shuttle hatch connected with the pliable pressure sleeve of the umbilicus with a gentle jolt. As the console readout displayed the beginning of the pressurization sequence, Fox twisted in his chair, rested his arm on the headrest, and looked at Gage in confusion. "What's the matter with you? Normally all a guy has to do is look at you wrong and you don't trust him. I'm not saying she's definitely working for Dianus, I'm just saying until we know for sure we should take every precaution. And if that means Fara gets a little embarrassed or sore in the wrists, then so be it." Fox shrugged and shook his head, flabbergasted. "What's wrong with you? Aren't you the one usually calling _me_ naïve?"

"Hey." Gage's eyes darkened and his brow lowered, a face Fox knew not to invoke. To a special forces operator, naïve was a four letter word. "There's nothing wrong with me. I just have a little more respect for a woman who's done nothing but help us."

"A little bit, nothing decisive that helps us against Dianus."

"She helped save my life twice!" His agitation grew. "She helped with the breakout, with the –"

Fox raised his palms. "I know, but it's still nothing decisive. Jeez, calm down."

A new voice rose, struggling to be heard over the booming men. Fara sat up straight and said, "It's ok, really. I don't blame him."

Gage shook his head. "No, it's not ok! Not after all you've done to help!"

Falco interrupted again. "How do you know it wasn't just to buy time, or gain trust, or—"

"Hey, stay the hell out this, street trash."

"What'd you fucking call me?!"

Falco jumped out of his chair with Fox right after him, the vulpine holding his teammate's shoulders and eventually managing to wedge himself in between the two. Gage hadn't even flinched but rather took a ponderous step back, his hands loose and ready at his sides like coiled snakes in the grass. Fox shoved the avian back and exchanged angry looks at both of them, his eyes lingering on his fellow fox.

"What's gotten into you?" he hissed through clenched teeth. "We're all tired and overworked and stressed to hell but this isn't–"

"Enough with the damn excuses!" Gage spat. "This isn't about us; it's about you turning your back on your allies. First a little distrust with Fara. Then what?"

Fox pursed his lips and his own eyes became shadowed, mirrors of Gage's. "Is that what this is about? You don't trust me? I see…my mother's a traitor, my father's a traitor, so I must be too?"

"I didn't say it, you did."

Fox took a couple heavy steps closer. "You better watch it before you say something you'll regret. You know me better than that. You know that I would never betray anyone I call ally."

Gage didn't back away. "Why not? Seems to be family tradition."

The words struck Fox's heart like a searing knife. Any rational thought disappeared behind a haze of red and he threw himself at his friend, fists clenched so tight that his finger claws dug into his palm. He threw punch after punch until he lost count, his muscles numb. Soon he found himself thrown to the floor, Gage unscathed, but his berserk fury bounced him right back up just as Falco came to his aid. The avian landed a blow to the back of Gage's neck, dropping him to one knee, but the Dagger captain retorted with a rising punch to the beak that sent Falco hard against the fuselage. Fox used the opportunity to ram his shoulder into his opponent's midsection, tackling him to the ground. He managed one good strike to the muzzle before Gage gained control. He saw the punches, knew he had been struck, but felt nothing except the tempest of anger in his chest.

Fox struggled as he and Gage rolled on the ground, the latter finally pinning him down. He wondered why Gage didn't fight back, why he threw no punches. Finally, as color began to return to his eyes and his ears cleared of the screaming rage, he became aware of a screaming voice.

"Stop it! Please, stop!"

Fara stood over them, her eyes deep and sad, seeming even gentle after the hatred Fox had released in himself. They stopped and looked at her, even Falco who was still glassy-eyed from Gage's punch.

"Please, don't do this," she said, her voice lower, "not because of me. Gage…thank you, but I'll be alright. I'll go like this. It's fine."

Cautiously, each man watching the others' movements, they stood and brushed themselves off or straightened their clothes, not a word exchanged, just sharp glances and scowls. Fox shook his head hard to clear his vision and his head complained, dull aches growing to full-scale throbs. With a groan, he saw that the green light on the console was blinking, signaling the completion of pressurization. He staggered to the cockpit and hit the door release switch. As he turned back around, he barely had time to react and catch a small object that Gage tossed at him: a first aid kit from the rear of the transport. For the first time, he sniffed and realized his nose was bleeding.

With fiery and lingering eye contact, the captain brushed past him and uttered, "Clean yourself up."

-

-

After walking through the umbilicus to the station proper, a short elevator ride brought them to the sector's reception area, warmly labeled as the "Greeting Room." Fox noticed that the motif of the station seemed to be white; white luminescent floors, white plastiglass walls, white ceilings that cleverly masked and diffused hidden lights such that no fixtures were visible. Naturally, the roaming technicians, scientists, and administration workers alike wore white uniforms, whether jumpsuits, lab coats, or classy yet enticing skirts. The only exceptions were the blue-clad security guards on patrol or guard duty, contractors from an outside security firm.

Fox gazed around as if it were his first time and it might as well have been; the station had seen quite a change from its humble beginnings as just another rusty hunk of metal and had even evolved from the last time he had been there over a year before.

"Swanky," Falco said, glancing around with mild annoyance. Fox knew he was kicking himself for not visiting sooner…and for not sucking up to Beltino sooner.

The foursome approached the wide reception desk, dwarfed by the massive TDE logo on the wall behind it. A pretty young gray vixen looked up from her holoscreen and offered a smile.

"Mister McCloud, correct? Welcome to Toad Development Enterprises Station Alpha. How long will you be staying as our guest?"

"Oh, uh…" Fox blinked, caught off guard by the question. He hadn't thought about where to spend the night but the offer sounded as good as any other. "Just overnight, if that's ok."

She touched two keys without looking down. "Baggage or other personal belongings?"

"A bit, in our ship."

Another keystroke. "Someone will bring your bags to your quarters. Would you all like separate rooms?"

Fox hesitated itches his muzzle, and dared a look back at the still stone-faced Gage. "Listen, we have someone with us that needs to be…watched. Do you have any secure rooms?"

The gray vixen raised an eyebrow at Fara, apparently realizing that her hands weren't clasped behind her back for comfort. "We have holding cells. Are her crimes severe?"

"No, no…"

"She's not a criminal," Gage said flatly. "We just need to keep her secure until we reach our destination. But she is to be treated well, understood?"

The vixen's smile returned. "Of course. Security will be given explicit instructions to that effect. Pardon me." She swiveled her chair so she faced away from them and tapped her right ear. Fox squinted and saw a tiny black comm unit, so discreet that he hadn't noticed it up until then. After she had finished speaking and swiveled back to face them, a pair of security guards made their way through the bustle of white-clad workers. "These men will take care of her. Any further instructions?"

"No," Gage said, his eyes examining the guards. He and Fara exchanged a last look before the nervous vixen was gently led away, each guard taking an arm. When he turned back his eyes met Fox's with brief heat before averting.

"Once you've settled in," the receptionist continued, "Doctor Toad has requested your company in his office."

"I'd rather see him now if possible."

"Certainly. His schedule has been left open in anticipation of your visit. Use this keycard on the far left elevator behind you." She produced a blue-inlaid translucent card from below her holoscreen and slid it across the desk. "I'll inform him you're on your way. Have a pleasant day."

"Not much chance of that," Fox muttered under his breath.

Convex white metal opened to reveal a cylindrical elevator. Fox slid the keycard through a reader below the floor buttons and the elevator immediately rose without any audible mechanical noise. He looked down and choked upon realizing that the floor was completely transparent, a far drop visible below his feet. The roof and walls were made in similar fashion as he discovered upon the elevator's ascent; the confines of the lobby were left below and the open-view elevator showed the entire inside of the spire. It had been a long time since Fox's breath was held in wonderment but the majestic view was like nothing he had ever seen, at least not in space. Dozens of levels of balconies ringed the inside of the spire, all suspended over a lush floral vista, as if a hundred yards of rainforest had been bottled in the galaxy's largest test tube. Even a waterfall graced the scene, the powerful water cascading down ten stories to an artificial lake at the bottom. Far below, Fox could see the tiny figures of white-clad workers moving about the surreal melding of technology and nature at what was apparently a restaurant and recreation area.

"Amazing," Fox breathed.

Falco nodded. "Wonder how the waterfall works."

"Rapid-dispersion intake pipes from a reservoir," Gage uttered, leaning against the back of the elevator with his arms folded. "Omicron-grade pressure valves. Not cheap."

The avian shot a disdainful glance over his shoulder, the fight still fresh in his mind. "How the hell do you know?"

Gage met the hostile eyes with equal measure. "Because I blew one up once. Let's just say in the wrong hands they can rapidly disperse a lot more dangerous shit than water into a crowded area."

"Ohh, ain't the boy scout a big freakin' hero with his black ops and classified—"

"Aw, what's the matter Lombardi, your juvenile record keep you out of the real navy?"

"Shove it up your fu—"

"See, in the real military you have to shoot the enemy, not swipe their wallets."

"Stow it!" Fox snapped. "Both of you! In thirty seconds I have to speak to a man and apologize that his son is never coming home. Whatever bullshit you're going through, Gage, at least you of all people can understand that. Save it for later."

The Dagger captain sighed through his nose and nodded solemnly, the parallel to his own experience with fallen soldiers poignant enough to calm his part of the feud. Falco just scoffed; good enough as long as it meant silence.

The marvelous view abruptly ended as the elevator shaft passed through solid architecture near the top of the spire. It slowed and halted with an automated voice proclaiming their arrival at Doctor Toad's office. The doors opened revealing an expanse that could be mistaken for a five-star hotel presidential suite before rather than an office. Easily enough floor space to cover the entire Vanguard bridge, long meeting tables, leather chairs and couches, and many potted exotic plants adorned the room. A bank of holoscreens projected from the right wall showed different sections of the station while the rear wall showed the dark void of space, the wall apparently made of the same plastiglass as the elevator. Silhouetted against that space, sitting at his large white desk on a raised portion of the floor, was Beltino Toad.

"Come in," the toad said, his voice deep and scratched with age. He tapped away at a keyboard. "I'll be right with you."

Fox led the way down the long green carpet that flowed from the elevator to the desk. Six leather chairs were arranged in a semi-circle before the desk; the two pilots took a couple while Gage remained standing behind them. A minute passed and Fox could feel his gut churning, fearing what could possibly be said.

With an exhale of completion, Beltino pushed the keyboard away and leaned back in his chair. The elderly toad looked at them in turn with an air of confidence. "For years we tried different prototypes of holographic keyboards, anything to make these clunky, cramping relics obsolete. They all failed in focus groups. You know why?"

The three guests remained silent.

"The lack of tactile response. People needed to feel keys to know where their fingers were, where to push next, like playing the piano. I suppose it must be accepted as a natural limitation, like breathing or bleeding. It seems that our minds wish for us to evolve and create brilliant advancements while the rest of our bodies wish only to hold us back."

Fox nodded. A few moments passed and he cleared his throat. "Doctor Toad…"

"Oh come, Fox, we're certainly on a first name basis by now. I've known you since you were a boy."

"Just habit I guess." He cleared his throat again. Suddenly it felt dry as cotton. "Listen, I have some things I want to say and—"

"Falco, correct? How come you never come around? I haven't seen you since…let me see…well, that would be just after the war."

Falco blinked. "Oh, uh, well I'm busy a lot, ya know? Business down on Corneria. Hell of a place you got here. That jungle and all…real cool."

"Ah, yes, the Atrium. I never liked spending time in space. Now I can have nature only a few steps away all the time. It's fantastic for morale as well, very relaxing for my seven-hundred thirty-four employees on board. May not seem like many people for a station this size but most space is used for parts storage and construction workspaces."

Gage spoke for the first time. "Do you count robots amongst employees?"

"No, no I don't." Beltino sat up straight and adjusted his glasses. Fox saw he wore white as well though the three-piece suit probably cost more than a hundred technician jumpsuits. "Yes, yes, the receptionist told me Fox brought a couple guests. And you are?"

"Captain Gage Birse, Cornerian Army."

"Well, welcome aboard, captain. How did you know I use automatons?"

"The receptionist that greeted us. She's one, right?"

Beltino snapped his fingers in frustration. "Cursed thing. I really thought we made a fantastic lifelike copy with her. The gray vixen, right? Julie? What gave her away?"

"Her chest didn't move; she wasn't breathing. She never blinked either." With a shrug, he added, "She also seemed a bit too cheery."

"You're a rather sharp fellow. Thank you, I'll relay your observations to the team working on Julie version eighty-four. You know, she's a descendant of your antiquated ROB model, Fox."

"Sir, if I may," Fox said in a louder voice. "I don't think you called us here for business talk."

"Why not? My business is all I have left."

Fox didn't like the way that sounded. He swallowed. "Doctor Toad...Beltino…you have no idea how sorry I am about—"

"You know," the toad interrupted again, "there's a tavern down in the Atrium that mixes some fine drinks. For off-hours employees only, of course. Why don't you two head down there for a bit, my treat? I'd like to talk to Fox in private."

"Don't need to tell me twice," Falco said, eagerly standing.

Gage shook his head. "Thanks for the offer but there's someone I'd like to see, make sure she's settled in ok."

"Very well. Fox, make yourself at home over in the sitting area. I have to go…check on something. I'll be with you shortly, won't be but a moment."

-

_1152 hours_

_-_

With a metallic impact of the heavy magnetic lock being released, Fara's cell door opened. Gage entered and snorted; white, of course – floor, walls ceiling, cot mattress. A bare, bland room with an air recycler in the ceiling emitting a low hum. He looked over his shoulder and waved away the security guard that let him in. The door closed, leaving him in the small windowless room with the vixen, who sat on the cot with downcast eyes.

"You ok?" Gage asked.

"Yeah." She waved a hand in the air. "They just took the cuffs off and shoved me in here." She looked up to examine him and Gage could see from her reddened eyes that she had been crying. "What about you?"

"What? Oh, yeah, it was just a little scuffle."

"What got into you? You and Fox are so close."

Gage scratched the back of his neck and sat down next to her, the cot bouncing up and down for a few seconds. "I just think you deserve a little more credit. I don't like people betraying their allies."

"He didn't betray me," she said softly. "I mean, I'm grateful for what you did for me but…to tell the truth, I can't blame him at all. Meeting that horrible woman, that…assassin of Dianus…it seemed too familiar. I don't know how I knew about her gear or how I started fighting like that. I just reacted, as if I knew her style by heart." She hesitated, her eyes once again pointed at her lap. "I'm just so scared. First the police station when I had that flash of killing some helpless person, now this."

"Can you remember anything else? Anything at all?"

Fara shook her head. "I've been sitting here trying. I can just remember flashes. Some are innocent and clear like my childhood. My parents and all, like I said at the restaurant on Macbeth. A pink tricycle I used to have. When I tried my first cigarette and ended up throwing up all over my friend's new shoes." A grin appeared and vanished in the same moment. "But most aren't like that." She looked over at Gage and with a gentle, tentative movement, placed her hand on top of his and squeezed. "You actually believe me, don't you? You really do."

"I do." The fox looked down. He didn't pull away. "I think there must be some other explanation. I deal with manipulative, terrible people for a living and I don't see that in you. You couldn't have been with Dianus."

"Why are you so sure?"

Gage's heart beat harder, faster, as he turned his hand over and returned the tender pressure. "Call it intuition. You're nice to be around, can't say that for many people in the war business. You're there for those around you. You have all these strong characteristics but at the same time, you…" He fidgeted and scratched his eyebrow. "I don't usually talk all sappy like this. It's just…well, you have these strong parts but you're not hardened inside. I can always see what you're feeling. I haven't seen anything like that in a long time."

Fara smiled; it made Gage feel better just to see that again. "There must be some reason why I like being around you too."

It was his turn to avoid eye contact, preferring the blank return of his lap. "That's your own mystery. I don't do well with women."

"That's hard to believe."

"The last woman I liked broke up with me two years ago." He remained silent for a moment, then added, "She said I was dead inside."

"That's awful." With her other hand, Fara placed her palm under the fox's muzzle and lifted his eyes toward her own. "No one with your strength and honor could be dead inside. You just always have your shield up, as if you'll be shot the moment you lower it. But I see everything behind that shield and I can't imagine any woman who wouldn't fall in love with it."

"But I don't want any woman." Their muzzles were close. Gage could feel the soft air from her nose wash over his and his heart ran faster. "I just want the one who makes me forget about the shield."

Their muzzles touched. At once, Gage felt a spark of connection and then a cascade of warmth set fire to his spine as the kiss deepened. Her hands held him under the ears, keeping him spellbound in an experience unlike any in his life. The kiss was not a product of simple lust or desperation; it spoke to him, told him that she understood, that she knew him. He only hoped that she felt the same from him.

No…

No…

"No!" Gage pulled away and stood so fast his head swam for a moment. The tingle of the kiss still lingered in his mouth. "Damn it, I really am compromised. Fara, I can't do this. There's too much happening and no matter what I believe in my gut, we still don't know enough about you."

"Gage…" She stood and took a half-step toward him, her eyes plaintive. "You trust me right now. But what about tomorrow? What if I suddenly remember that I was one of Dianus' guards? What if…what if I remember that I hate you and Fox and want to kill you all?"

"I'm telling you, that won't happen. You were never with Dianus." Gage swallowed, trying as much to convince himself as her. "But you have to understand that we can't begin anything remotely like a relationship. I'm with Dagger first and foremost and as a soldier, I can't be involved with—"

"I understand. Really, I do." Fara lowered herself back onto the cot. "I don't want to complicate things more for you; I know you're having a hard time already. Just knowing you feel the same way makes me feel better. I'll take that kiss as a preview of our elusive second date." She gave a shy grin.

"The next time I have leave, I swear." He offered a grin back. "Though it could be awhile."

"You think maybe you can at least stay and talk? I don't want to be alone in here."

"Sure." Gage sat next to her and tried not to notice the inviting warmth of her body heat. Remembering something, he reached a hand into his left breast pocket. "Hey, I have something for you. I was going to give it to you on the way back to the Vanguard but now's a good a time as any."

"I don't suppose it's a shot of whiskey."

"No, but I'm sure Falco's having one or two or eight for you right now." He brought from his pocket a steel chain with two dogtags draped from it. One of them was mangled in the middle from a sharp impact. "These are my rookie tags, before they were replaced with special forces holotags. Of course, most missions I don't wear tags at all. But these were my first, saw me through the rough beginnings. I want you to hold on to them."

Fara's jaw hung and she held her hands cupped to receive the tags. "Oh, Gage, I can't take these. They must mean so much to you. What happened to this one?"

"A little hunk of shrapnel took me in the chest. That tag saved my life and I sure didn't expect it. Just like I didn't expect you to save my life. I still hold on to them for good luck so why don't you take them, see if they give you some luck also. Here." He took the chain, unclasped it, and drew it around her neck before clasping it again. "There, I guess that counts as a gift of jewelry. Huh…I'm starting to see why I'm single."

Fara laughed and shoved his shoulder. She let her fingers caress the chain and tags. "I love it. Makes me feel safe."

"Well don't go flaunting it. Remember, it's just a gift from a friend. Nothing more for now."

"Just having you around as a friend will tide me over."

"Good, 'cause if Admiral McGarret saw—"

A heavy knock at the door interrupted him and preceded its opening. Standing before two guards, gravity etched in his features, was Fox McCloud.

-

_Twenty minutes earlier..._

-

Despite Beltino's invitation, Fox couldn't sit still and took to wandering the spacious office, looking over various trinkets and artwork but his attention far away. He wondered what the old toad went to go "check," how he really felt about having his dead son's leader in on the station…part of him even worried that Beltino would return with a couple goons to push him through an airlock. He remembered how furious and deeply hurt he had been when Andross "killed" his parents. Did Beltino see Fox the same way?

No more than five minutes passed before the elevator returned to the office bearing its owner. The toad wandered over to Fox, who stood before an abstract tapestry near the desk. He adjusted his glasses and said, "Would you like to speak or should I go first?"

Fox took a deep breath. "Coming here is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Starfox is a family and when we lost Slippy we lost a brother. He was my responsibility and I failed him. I failed you. I don't think there's any way I can ever apologize enough."

Beltino gave a ponderous nod. "My son was an enigma. He inherited my love for science and a sharp mind but he also inherited his mother's sense of adventure, rest her soul. I wanted him to take over TDE. Maybe someday he would have. But he loved Starfox, oh how he loved it. I could see it in every bit of correspondence, every time he visited, every time he spoke of you and the team and the good things you were doing. I want to die doing what I love and I know Slippy had no regrets, no matter how it came about."

Fox could still hear his teammate's panicked pleas for help in his ear. He knew it best not to go into detail of how it happened.

"I always worried about him, of course," Beltino continued. "I knew this could have happened any time. But I respect his choice; we all have to follow our own path in life. And I respect the unpredictability of war. I know what kind of leader you are, Fox. You have nothing to worry about from me; I don't have ill feelings toward you."

Fox felt like he had been holding a tense breath for hours and he released it, his knotted stomach settling. He thought that he should have felt better but he didn't; no matter what anyone told him, not even Slippy's father, he still had his own guilt to deal with.

"But that's not to say that you are devoid of certain responsibilities." The old toad looked away from the painting toward Fox. "Do you know what I mean?"

"You have my word, the person who did this will not go unpunished. I'll do whatever it takes to find her and bring her down."

"Good, good. Some taboo aspects of the psyche must still be satisfied. I want my son's murderers to suffer the same fate." Beltino turned on his heel and walked to his desk, Fox following him. He sat and produced from a bottom compartment a bottle of sherry. After a refused gesture of offering to his guest, he set down one silver-inlaid stemware glass and filled it with the golden liquor. "What do you have planned? Whatever you can tell me anyway."

"We recently…enticed the name of an enemy officer from a prisoner. We'll run checks and see what it brings up. The prisoner also said something about ruins on Venom, which the Vanguard can scan for."

Beltino took a slight sip of the sherry, taking his time with the flavor before swallowing. "What about this woman you brought aboard?"

"Uh…" Fox didn't even know where to start. He decided to keep it simple. "She's got some form of selective or localized amnesia, or whatever the doctor said. She's helped us a lot but some of her memories indicate that she may have been closer to the enemy than we thought. Maybe even on the wrong side."

"I see." Beltino set the glass down and twirled it gently between his thumb and forefinger. "Have you 'enticed' information out of her as well? You're obviously certain that something useful resides in her brain. Maybe it just needs a little push."

Fox hesitated. He wondered if he just misinterpreted what the toad had been asking. "We questioned her, yes, and I'm sure Admiral McGarret will want her interrogated but—"

"You know what I mean, Fox. Have you tried forcing information from her?"

No misinterpretation anymore. "You mean torture."

Beltino shrugged and took another drawn-out sip. "It seems to me you can't have it both ways. Either you told me the truth when you said you would do whatever it takes to avenge my son and triumph in this conflict…or you lied to me." His brow rose. "So which one was it?"

Fox's mind roiled, the question baiting him down two separate paths. One path couldn't believe Slippy's father was asking such a question, condoning such an action. Only hours before with Leon did Fox realize that torture would bring him down to the enemy's level. The other path put up a stout fight. Of course Beltino would feel this way, and he should; Dianus took what was left of his family and Fara could hold they key to her defeat. Was torture of Dianus' minions so terrible, given who they were? Could he have gotten more information from Leon if he went ahead and scraped his skull against the wall? And the Toad family…Fox felt such a burning desire for penance, some way to make his failure right.

But this wasn't Leon…it was Fara, a victim of her own amnesia. If she was telling the truth…

Fox growled in the back of his throat. The whole thing hurt his head and nothing made it any easier. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't.

"I hope she yields new intelligence," Beltino said, his eyes boring into Fox's. "Should you choose to visit her, that is. I notified the cell guards earlier. The rooms are sound proof and you will not be disturbed or held accountable for what you do in there. Well? Have you chosen to honor my request?"

Fox held his breath. He felt numb as he came to a decision.

-

-

"What are you doing here?" Gage demanded, rising and glancing at each guard in turn.

"I need to speak with Fara," Fox replied. "Alone."

"Forget it. Whatever you have to say to her you can say with me here."

"Gage, please just go. These men are under orders from Beltino to forcefully subdue anyone in their way."

The captain stepped forward, toe-to-toe with Fox. "What are you gonna do, have them shoot me?"

"No. But even you can't stand up to repeated shock blasts. All I want to do is talk. Don't make this more than it has to be."

Gage stared into him, his eyes daggers, until he finally looked over his shoulder at Fara. The vixen, visibly nervous in her furrowed brow, gave him a reassuring nod. He met Fox's eyes one more time before shoving past him and whispering, "I'll be right outside."

Gage joined the guards and turned back; he didn't see the handcuffs until Fox removed them from his pocket and by that point it was too late. He lunged at the door but it slid shut in his face and locked, drowning out any protests he might have shouted.

"Stand up," Fox commanded. He didn't wait for her to comply. He tugged her to her feet and slammed her against the wall when she shrieked and struggled. Grappling her from the back, he locked one cuff around her left wrist and dragged her back to the center of the room. Frustrated, he slammed his knee into her gut and knocked the wind out of her. Her strength weakened, Fox pulled her wrists up and locked them around the oxygen recycler pipe running along the low ceiling. Fara pulled and wriggled, panic choking her, and finally just stood with her arms stretched high and sweat on her brow, panting.

"What are you doing?" she finally asked, her voice shaky.

Fox pulled a serrated combat knife from his jacket pocket, something he had borrowed from security, and tossed the leather sheath to the ground. Her eyes followed the glinting metal with fear. "I'll make this very easy. I'm gonna ask questions, you're gonna answer them. If you don't answer or if you lie, I'm gonna hurt you. Understand?"

"Fox…"

"I said, understand?" He stepped before her and rested the blade between her neck and breasts, the contact evoking a shiver of terror that played with his own nerves.

She slowly nodded.

"Good. How did you come to be a prisoner of the pirates we rescued you from?"

"I…I…" Her eyes never left the blade; the scent of her sweat lingered in Fox's nose. "It's just what I told you. I was shot down. That's how I lost my memory, I think. That's all I know."

"Did Dianus plant you there? Were you meant to be taken to the Vanguard?"

"I don't know. I don't know."

"Projects Atlas and Siren…what do those names mean to you?"

Fara's head slowly moved back and forth as she desperately tried to think. "I can't remember ever hearing them before. Siren sounds familiar but only vaguely…maybe…like déjà vu."

Fox slid the knife to her abdomen and applied pressure, prompting her to gasp and wiggle away.

"It's all I know! I swear! Please…"

"What's Dianus planning?!" Fox felt the terror in her face but swallowed it, fought it.

"I don't know!"

"You have a connection to Dianus' army. You better think. And if you're lying, you better stop, or God help me I'll make us ankle-deep in blood."

"Fox…I'm telling you the truth. I always told you the truth. Please, stop this."

With a deep growl, Fox grabbed her by the neck and brought the blade against her cheek, the tip only half an inch from her left eye. "You want me to start big? Talk! What's your connection to Dianus?! Why are you on the Vanguard?!"

Fara trembled, first from fear. She blinked and tears fell from her eyes, those of her left running down her fur, then down the blade and finally dripping to the floor from the hilt. Then her jaw set and she trembled from both fear and anger. "All I ever tried to do was help you! I don't know who I really am! And with each passing day I remember more about myself that I hate! And now people think I worked for Dianus and the horrible part is I don't know whether it's true, whether I worked for a murdering tyrant or not! Do you think anything you do with that knife could be more painful than that?!"

Fox didn't answer; he had no stern reprimand or threat. Somewhere in the course of her anger, the knife point dug into her cheek and drew blood, the crimson liquid melding with her tears and painting the metal. All the reluctance that Fox had bottled up and set aside before coming in broke free at once, making him feel sick and disgusted with himself. He eased away, the air stifling him, and he fought to maintain his composure. His next words came with only a fraction of the force he had previously shown. "Fara…don't make this harder than it has to be. Just tell me what I need to know and I won't hurt you."

The vixen's trembling stopped for a moment, replaced with icy stillness, even in her once heavy breathing. She tried to pull away again as if it was her first attempt, metal links rattling on the pipe. Written on her face was the haunting pain of torture not yet done to her…not by Fox anyway. When she remembered to breathe again her chest heaved in fits of fight-or-flight urgency. Between breaths she rasped, "I've heard…I've heard that before."

"What?" Fox stepped close again, only causing her to buck away.

"Not to make it harder. I've heard that before. I was…forced down, tied down…like this." She shuddered hard, shaking sweat and tears loose. "It hurt so much; it hurt to breath, to blink, to just be awake. It was her…she was doing it."

"Who was?"

"I can't see her face, can't focus on anything. Just her eyes…glaring. Green, dark green. The rest is just darkness, silhouette." Her eyes, wild and distant, became clear for a split second and beaded on Fox. She added with a ghostly whisper, "But it looks just like you."

Fox blinked. His mother's eyes were green…green as emeralds, his father would say.

That did it for Fox. Being likened to something so horrible made everything else so clear. The realization stunned him: _someone has equated my actions with Dianus'. _He dropped the knife and backpedaled, staring with burning shame at the woman he nearly tortured, the woman practically convulsing from resurfacing memories, memories of his own mother. His own tears threatened to surface but he kept them buried – he didn't deserve to take time for himself now, not when he had to fix what he had done. Mustering his thoughts back into play, he pounded on the door until it opened, revealing a security officer.

"Doctor. I need a doctor, now."

"Got one already, sir."

"What? Why?" The guard stepped aside to reveal Gage sitting slumped against the wall, his head lolling and his hands cuffed on his lap. No less than ten guards had set up a perimeter around him, all aiming their shock pistols at him. Six other guards were being tended to by a lizard doctor, each exhibiting the groaning pain and injured limbs of a sound beating. "Oh, no…"

"He just went nuts after you went in there, demanded to be let in. We tried to hold him back but…well, good thing someone got a lucky shot off that stunned him or we'd all be eating floor right now. I tell ya, I never seen a man take so many shocks before going down. I'm still afraid of him, to tell ya the—"

"Will he be alright?"

"Oh sure, hour or two maybe."

Fox pointed at the lizard. "I need that doctor right now for a tranq."

He returned to the vixen, who still heaved with short, desperate breaths, sweat having soaked through her clothes. He unlocked the cuffs and guided her down onto the cot, holding her steady until the doctor arrived. With a quizzical but dismissive glance at the bloody knife and handcuffs, he injected the sedative into her arm and placed one palm on her forehead while the other checked her pulse. Slowly, with a comforting rhythm, her breathing eased and her muscles relaxed.

"What…" She whispered, her glassy eyes meeting Fox's. "What…"

"Just something to help you sleep," Fox said. "You'll wake up soon and feel better." He swallowed and added, "I'm so sorry."

She gave no response, spoken or silent. Not a grin of forgiveness nor a glare of hatred. Her eyes fluttered shut and she drifted to sleep.

-

-

Fox strode into Beltino's office, his eyes a storm of rage, each step resounding despite the carpet. The toad stiffened and eyed the visitor with concern but did not move from his chair. He continued to type, his concentration on his holoscreen but his peripheral vision alert.

"So," he said casually, "did you speak with your friend?"

Fox swept his hand across the desk, sending the holoscreen emitter crashing to the ground in a burst of sparks. Beltino blinked, his work suddenly gone, and leaned back in his chair with a faint sigh.

"You had no right to demand that of me!" Fox snarled, looming over the white desk. "I don't know what you thought of your son but he wouldn't have wanted that! You know what? If Slippy was around to see that, he would've spat in my face and quit. If he knew I did it in his name, he would've taken a swing at me."

"Did you torture her?" Beltino asked, still calm.

"No. I almost did. I came close, closer than I even did with Leon." Fox shook his head, realizing the toad wouldn't know about that. "Never mind. You didn't ask me to threaten a known murderer. You asked me to torture a woman who has helped us and done nothing wrong. She was terrified. She remembered horrors. I had to give her a goddamn sedative."

"But you didn't torture her."

"No, and I'm not about to start. You mark my words, I'm going to find and defeat Dianus. There's nothing in this galaxy that can stop me. But this is not how I'm going to do it. I'm going to do it the way Starfox has always done it under my command, and that never included the bullshit you almost had me perform. And if you think Slippy would have wanted it any different, then I obviously knew him far better than you ever did." Fox turned and started back toward the elevator. "We'll be leaving as soon as I've seen Peppy. I don't want to spend another minute in this place."

"Fox, wait."

Hesitant, he stopped and turned.

Beltino leaned forward and folded his hands on the desk. He let the silence hang and then spoke, as confident as he had always been. "I know about your parents. Or at least what the military knows."

Fox folded his arms and let him continue.

"I'm the largest military ship supplier in the galaxy; I have plenty of networks, including our mutual friend General Pepper. And like Pepper, you can trust me with complete secrecy regarding the media. I took the news as quite a shock, especially considering your…" He hesitated. "…your mother was the cause of my son's death. I thought I knew James and Vixy quite well but like all of us, I was made the fool. I in turn had concerns regarding you. You must understand, Fox…you pilot the single greatest fighter craft in the galaxy and the Great Fox was a marvel in its time. Peppy told me about the Arwing schematic in your arm, the one now destroyed. I hold the only known full schematic. The fighter itself is foolproof to reverse engineering; I designed it as such. I refuse to let such a craft fall into the wrong hands, even well-meaning but corruptible hands like the Cornerian Navy." Beltino met Fox's eyes. "Have you any idea what could have happened if your parents succeeded in gaining the Arwing schematic? Two of the best, most honorable people I ever met…and now this."

Fox thought of the Papetoon facility and he shivered. "I know you have the Arwing schematic. So what? What does this have to do with Fara?"

"I want to give you something, technology with as much potential today as the Great Fox had in its heyday. But your parents proved that technology in questionable hands is disastrous. I had to make sure the apple fell very, very far from the tree."

"Wait a minute." Fox's eyes narrowed. "This whole thing was some kind of sick test?"

"I had to make sure my technology went to benign hands. A mistake like the one with your parents cannot be repeated."

"This is a woman's life you played with. What if I really tortured her? What if she was down there right now bleeding and screaming in agony? My God, what if I killed her?"

Beltino pursed his lips. "Then one person would have died. But billions would have been made safe. My technology would not be given to a murderer and torturer, a person with enough of a corrupt moral code to be a second Dianus. And this is important technology; it could help you immensely in this conflict." He scoffed at Fox's look. "Judge me if you wish but the products that are built on this station have the potential to start or end wars, to save or kill billions. That is a burden unlike any you can imagine. I make no apologies or regrets for the trials I impose on my potential clients because it keeps the galaxy safe. I wish to offer you something grand. The trial is proportional to the reward."

Fox didn't answer for what seemed like hours as he mulled the toad's words over. He had seen Papetoon, what could have happened if Andross or Dianus owned a fleet of Arwings. He knew the shock if his parents' betrayal, the distrust it must have surfaced. Try as he might – as sick as he still felt from the ordeal with Fara – he could not find Beltino wrong. Questionable? Controversial? Anger-inducing? But not wrong.

"If nothing else," Beltino continued, "you have proven yourself a moral man. I'm proud of my son for choosing you as a friend and I feel confident keeping you on as a client."

"Thank you," Fox replied, still flustered from the old businessman's effective yet ruthless examination. "What about Fara? Gage?"

"I have fantastic medical personnel on staff. Your female friend will be well looked-after. Captain Birse injured quite a few of my security guards but no charges will be pressed. He was only trying to stop a fool from doing something terrible." The toad grinned. "I imagine he'll be quite cross with me but…" He shrugged. "If I had enacted these same rigors and precautions with your father, Captain Birse and his team wouldn't be so busy right now and none of us would be in this tragic mess. But that's life for you. We do what we can, we hope, then we suffer for our mistakes."

"Cheery."

"Well, perhaps I can lighten our mood by showing you my gift." Beltino's smile broadened and he stood. "Come with me."

As Beltino rounded the desk, Fox's eye fell upon the sherry glass atop it, still half full. Though he initially thought the old man simply hadn't finished his first glassful from earlier, he then noticed the bottle resting on the floor near the chair – nearly empty. Part of him, the part disturbed by the toad's mindset, was a bit relieved.

Ten minutes and three separate elevator rides later, Beltino led Fox from the pristine public areas to the restricted work zones: wide corridors with loading and transport vehicles, spinning hazard lights, warning signs of every kind, masses of workers in jumpsuits and hardhats, and clearance checks rising in severity the further they went. When they finally arrived at an airlock bearing a bright red disclaimer for "Level 10 Clearance," eight armored guards with assault rifles watched over the checkpoint. They put Beltino through the same credential examination as anyone else and the toad didn't mind a bit.

Once cleared, the airlock opened and allowed the two access. Dead silence fell as the door sealed behind them and a soft humming started up.

"Though the hangar is pressurized," Beltino explained, "we keep airlocks at all critical junctures in case of emergencies. Never know what could happen with some of the things we work on around here. This airlock also doubles as a backup security measure; right now we're being scanned for hidden equipment and bio-electronic anomalies, anything spies or saboteurs might sneak in. Auto-turrets can be lowered from ceiling compartments to force an intruder's surrender."

"Would've liked that in my room back on the Great Fox…maybe Falco would've thought twice before stealing cash from my wallet every other day."

Beltino grinned. "I'm sorry, maybe I'll get around to that in the third incarnation."

"Third?" Fox's eyes narrowed. "What exactly are you showing me?"

The scanner fell silent and the airlock door opened, greeting them with a burst of cold air. Beltino wrapped an arm around his visitor and escorted him into the hangar, beaming with pride. "Fox McCloud…I give you the All-Purpose Orbital/Planetary Mobile Base and Tactical Insertion Platform, mark two, version seven."

"It's the Great Fox," Fox whispered, breathless.

The cold capital ship hangar, intimidating itself given its size, held in its massive moorings a ship that immediately brought back memories of Fox's destroyed home. It definitely owned the features of the Great Fox – the body shape, the propulsion fighter hangar in the belly, the four angled wings, the jutting "neck and head" bridge – but gleaming and new. It also had a distinct, modern flair to it that visually updated it since the first Great Fox was built. The head was sleeker, there was less "fat" and more mechanical inlay and scaled shielding on the body, and the wings were segmented. Even the thrusters and main cannons bore the telltale signs of years of improvement, being tighter and less bogged down by bulk. To Fox, it seemed the perfect combination of practical improvement with respect to its origins.

Beltino's words echoed Fox's thoughts. "The Great Fox was my first true capital ship design, though many said it was too small to be an effective capital. Well, they're not doubting it anymore. Its performance in the war was spectacular and it served Starfox well. I couldn't have asked for a better life for it. Over the last three years I've been perfecting its design, integrating newer parts and improvements. You have the same tried-and-true design mixed with a better aerodynamic build for planetary maneuvering. You see the wings? They can contract and expand for better air resistance or retract fully for space flight so they're not getting clipped off by debris or nicked by enemy fire. Thrusters can take twice the heat and put out thirty percent more power. Shield output has been nearly doubled and the hull is lighter and stronger. The hangar is now fully situational-optimized, being able to quickly prepare and insert the array of TDE-licensed vehicles in addition to your Arwings, including SFF-IV "Blacklight" fighters for air and space superiority, the Underwater Engagement Craft codenamed "Bluemarine," the Light Ground/Structure Assault Vehicle codenamed "Landmaster," and many others. The latter two have already been loaded, each with some minor improvements over your previously owned models. We've remedied whiplash complaints with the LG/SAV with an inertial stabilizer, for instance." Beltino took a breath. "I could talk forever about what's been changed and not scratch the surface but I'm sure you want to see the inside. Very modern. You'll love the recreation room."

"Wait a minute." Fox couldn't take his eyes off the beautiful ship. "How did this…how did you know we would need this?"

"Well, you see…" The toad hesitated. "The Cornerian Navy contacted us a couple years back. As always they asked for the Arwing and I refused but then they showed interest in trying out a Great Fox variant for potential integration into the main fleets. It got my creative mind working again and my teams finished this version four months ago." He shivered in the cold air as his eyes roved the ship. "But I was hesitant. This is the most advanced rapid insertion and mobile base ship in the galaxy. Once it leaves this station, its released into a hungry, cutthroat galaxy filled with greed and those willing to sell dangerous tech. I couldn't bring myself to let her go and I struggled with what to do. When I heard about the trouble near Venom from General Pepper, I decided the risk was worth it to give our boys the edge. I gave the Navy the okay to pick her up for field testing five days ago. A crew will be up tomorrow to commandeer her. My men should be putting the final touches on the insignia now."

"Oh," Fox said, crestfallen. He tried to hide his disappointment. "She's a beautiful ship. I hope she'll be in good hands."

Beltino took his arm and pointed toward the stern of the ship where some suspended scaffolding and mechanical equipment obscured their vision. So overwhelming was the breadth of the ship before him that Fox hadn't noticed workers far above on the scaffolding, scurrying about a large square silver patch that covered a few dozen square meters or so of hull. He recognized it as copy-foil, a thin computer integrated sheet of metal that heat-dried pre-generated painted images through careful gradients, quickly and flawlessly. As the workers called to each other, barely audible to the two onlookers, ceiling-mounted mechanical arms slowly peeled back the foil. As if being born again, the red winged fox came into the light gradually, proud as ever. When the foil fell away, Beltino said, "I'm certain now that she will be."

"I…I don't know what to say."

"It's my pleasure, Fox. You just concentrate on getting to know her, giving her a name, and using her to defeat Dianus. Me…I have to concentrate on placating the Navy. They won't be happy when they arrive and I tell them I'm fresh out of stock." Beltino grinned. "Come, let me show you your new home."

-

_1356 hours_

-

Fox finally found Gage. The captain had dropped from comm contact since he recovered from the shock blasts and left the medical ward. No one had seen him and security had no record of him at any checkpoints or scan areas. He would have had to pass through at least two low-level checkpoints to reach the cafeteria at the ground floor of the Atrium but somehow Fox wasn't surprised that he had slipped past. He knew it meant that the man didn't want to be disturbed.

Gage sat at a round table in the corner of the open-air cafeteria, under the artificial sunlight and dull roar of the waterfall on the other side of the Atrium. He leaned forward, hunched over a coffee mug, his eyes lost in the black liquid. Hesitant, Fox approached and stopped a few empty tables away, wondering whether it was the best idea to disturb him. He should have known that Gage already was aware of his presence.

"What do you want?" the darker fox muttered, his eyes never leaving the coffee.

Fox sighed and stepped the rest of the way over, resting his hands on the adjacent chair. "Mind if I sit?"

Gage made a vague gesture that could have gone either way; the mercenary took his chances and sat. A few seconds without being knocked on his rear hinted that he made the right interpretation. "I wanted you to know that I didn't do anything. I lost my head and I was going to, but…I didn't. I'm sorry about that whole incident. I didn't want you or Fara to get hurt."

Gage glanced up before returning his eyes downward. "I talked to Beltino through comm a little while ago. I was gonna rip him a new one but he explained why he did what he did and what you said to him." He took a sip of the coffee. "Smart man."

"The logic was there but I know you have feelings for Fara and—"

"You were right back in the transport," he interrupted. "Fara should have been restrained and watched carefully until we were back on the Vanguard. I was wrong and I put our lives at risk."

Fox slowly nodded, at a loss for anything to say but he didn't have to as the other fox continued.

"You know what happened today? I was taken down by security guards. You know why that happened?"

"Uh…there were like twenty of them?"

"That was my first excuse. But quantity doesn't matter if the skill isn't there. Then I thought of that thing my instructor said the first day of basic special operations training: the tactical soldier's two worst enemies are lucky shots and uncontrolled emotion. It's true that the shot that first got me was so damn lucky I'd use the guy as a lottery mule, and it's true that most members of this particular private security firm are ex-military, but the biggest problem was the last part: uncontrolled emotions. I let Fara get too close. When I tried to get in after you I was wild, undisciplined, my head was a mess. I fought like a rookie. What if that happened in a real battle, out there with Dianus' army?"

Fox nodded again. "What about Fara? Do you actually have feelings for her?"

Gage didn't answer immediately. He took a couple more sips and waited a full minute. "I just have to categorize her right. I see her like I see my team: friends without equal, comrades, but ultimately dispensable if it means the success of the mission."

"You sure?" Fox furrowed his brow; there was something odd about the captain. He was never one to dodge questions or give half-answers like that.

Gage could sense the other fox's scrutiny and solidified his poker face. "I made the oath to be what I am a long time ago and I just needed to be reminded of it today. Fara's a great woman but nothing can happen. I already told her that."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry. You have no idea how sick it made me knowing how close I came to …doing what I almost did."

"Yeah, I do. That's why I'm still talking to you." Gage raised his eyes and they stayed there this time. "I never should have doubted you. I'm sorry about what I said, you know, about your family. I know you better than that."

"Forget about it. I respected you since the day we met and first meetings couldn't get much rockier than that. Nothing's changed." Fox offered his hand. "So, we cool?"

"Yeah." Gage took it and they locked hands for a few moments. He finished off the coffee with one last gulp and stood. "Well, enough of that, don't want to have to fetch you a box of tissues. You gonna show me this new ship of yours or what?"

"Of course. Already took a tour with Peppy so I know the inside well enough. You know, you'll actually have to pass through the security checkpoints this time…unless you're too embarrassed to face them since they kicked your ass."

"Hey," Gage replied with the hints of a grin pulling at his muzzle. "There were like twenty of them."

-

_**-Chapter 15 Coming Soon-**_


	20. A Soldier's Rise: 4

[Author's Note: Just as a little update, I've been in Arizona for the past week visiting a good friend some of you might know as Destructor from here on the site. It put a dent in my writing schedule but I was able to work on this interlude that I felt would follow naturally from the events of the previous chapter. This is the story of how Gage and Fox, two unlikely brothers in arms, first met. I realize that my story "Vanguard" has its own interpretation but the Overlord trilogy is an older, seperate storyline in a seperate universe. For the purposes of "One Death Away" and the "official" story of Gage, here's how it happened. You can call it a retcon or an update or an alternate-universe, whichever one sounds best to you. =) So as always, thanks for reading and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

-

**A Soldier's Rise**

Two Sleepless Nights

-

_TDE Station Alpha  
0213 hours_

_-  
_

Fox walked alone through the guest quarters of the Toad Development Enterprises station, his footsteps echoing off the metallic walls. He knocked on the eighth identical door in the corridor and hit the button to open it. With a silent slide, light poured into Gage's sparsely decorated guest room, illuminating the bed and the scarred, toned upper half of the captain himself. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden light.

"Fox?" Gage asked in a hoarse voice. "What time is it?"

"Late. Can I come in?"

"If you had a bad dream, find someone else to snuggle with."

Fox rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him as he flicked on the small room's light, evoking a groan from Gage. "Were you sleeping?"

"What do you think? Beltino knows how to stock a room; great mattress." He swung his legs around the side of the bed. "What's the matter?"

"Just a little restless, thinking about Fara. Did you see her again?"

"I stopped by the infirmary before bed to see if she was okay." Gage narrowed his eyes. "Why? You still think I'm falling for her or some crap?"

Fox raised his palms. "Easy there. You said nothing's going on, I believe you."

"Fox, why did you come here? To ask about Fara?"

With a light sigh, the mercenary pulled a chair from the small writing table beside the bed and sat across from his friend. "I couldn't sleep. I keep thinking about what happened earlier with her. And tomorrow we're heading back to the Vanguard and I'm going to have to hunt down Dianus. It's a lot to think about." He hesitated a moment. "Do you think Fara could ever forgive me?"

Gage shrugged. "Each person has their own measurement for grudges. You didn't torture her but you did scare her and hurt her."

"Would you forgive someone who did it to you?"

Gage thought for a moment, his fingers rubbing the fur behind his ears. "Not easily. I know that's not what you want to hear but it's the truth. But Fara might be different. Why? Do you care?"

"I don't know, I just don't like how close I came to going through with it."

The captain nodded slowly. "I think if you were to be judged on your actions, then not going through with it speaks louder than almost going through with it. Your parents went through with their betrayal of their allies. You didn't. You just have to keep that thought in mind and keep going, nothing's perfect."

Fox nodded; the words helped and just talking with a friend enabled the chaos of thoughts to have an outlet, but his mind was far from troubled. "I just hope I can end it when the time comes."

"This shit with your parents just has you rattled. You're better than you give yourself credit for. When I apologized for doubting you today, I was serious. I trust you with my life and you earned that trust." The hints of a grin pulled at Gage's muzzle. "This conversation reminds me of a mission some years back. I had been with Dagger a short while, third in command, a second lieutenant. The captain and first lieutenant were away on a mission when a call came up regarding a crisis on Macbeth. It was only my second mission leading the squad."

Fox groaned. "Just thinking about that night makes me ache. I still remember seeing that town, the whole chaotic mess.

"The thing that stands out the most in my mind was how damn annoying those pilots were…"

-

* * *

_Six years ago_

_-  
_

The Shrike light transport skimmed the dark ocean, leaving a wake of mist in the night. Fox had always enjoyed flying at night, losing himself in the darkness, the hum of the thrusters gentle as a lullaby, only the red or green glow of the control panel to see by. The war with Andross showed him a different side; night, he realized, displayed war so much clearer than day. Explosions would light the sky, lasers would dance with a macabre beauty, and everyone for miles around could look to the horizon and see a stage of death. Night consumed the hemisphere Fox flew through and that it was what he saw on that horizon: a stage of death unlike any he had seen since the war officially ended seven months before.

"How long was I asleep?" Falco muttered from the copilot's chair, any weariness he felt from being awakened forgotten at the sight before them. "Did another war start while I was out?"

"This isn't right. Let me find out what's up." Fox activated the secure comm to the Cornerian Army Special Operations Command and flicked his headset on. "This is Starfox Lead to CASOC. I've responded to your emergency call and appropriated the Shrike from Outpost Two-Seven. Require more information on this contract."

A brief pause. _"This is callsign Temple, I'll be your CASOC contact for this assignment."_

Fox recognized General Pepper's voice and shook his head with a grin as the old hound continued.

_"I realized you were awakened and offered this contract on very short notice but you're the most reliable pilots in the vicinity of Macbeth. This is a short, simple mission; one that Corneria is not officially involved in. Your contract includes a nondisclosure clause punishable by prosecution if violated. As far as the records are concerned, this contract does not exist. Because of this mission's sensitivity, you will be offered the usual rate plus fifty percent. If you disagree, disconnect immediately and leave the area."_

Fox glanced at Falco, who just gave a hesitant nod. "We'll take it. But we need as much intel as possible. What the hell's going on here?"

_"A large force of Venomian remnant soldiers were driven off Macbeth but lots of Andross' fanatics still remain and continue the war. The Macbethian military was nearly decimated early in the war and has only begun to reform into a respectable defensive force. They're trying to hold the seaside town of Forshaw but the Venomians have made a concentrated effort to capture it and gain a foothold in the region."_

Falco grunted. "Y'know, we're gonna have trouble retaking the town in this tin can you made us pick up."

_"You are not to retake the town or engage in combat directly in any way. Macbeth has not asked for outside support and it is imperative for the military's morale and command structure that they win this battle on their own…or at least that they think they have. However, Corneria and Lylat as a whole cannot afford for Venom to make even the smallest gains when they're so close to total defeat."_

"So you want us to tip the odds in Macbeth's favor," Fox said, eyeing the distant town. "Discreetly."

_"Not you. We just need you to fly a few specialists to their designation then wait for possible extraction orders. And I need you to be at the top of your game. This is a very hot zone and you'll be transporting valuable assets. Sending coordinates to your nav system now. Keep communications to a minimum. And good luck; this is a sensitive mission, zero room for mistakes."_

"Roger, Temple."

_"Oh, and Starfox Lead? Try to stay on their good side."_

"We'll play nice, Temple. Starfox Lead out."

The nav computer came to life in a series of tones and progress screens, receiving and decoding the data sent by CASOC. Finally, a map of the Macbethian coastline zoomed in, pinpointing a spot a few miles off the coast with a red pulse. Fox reached above him to the panel over his head and activated the Dark-Scan canopy overlay. The canopy glass shimmered and took on a red tint, the ocean around them more visible through mild light amplification. In addition, the overlay translated the map coordinates to a targeted HUD reticule directly on the canopy. Staying low, Fox maneuvered the Shrike to an intercept course with the destination, shown on the HUD to be four miles away.

"A paycheck and a half just for a babysitting job?" Falco pondered, trying to straighten a resilient cowlick on his head feathers. "Seems too easy."

"Well, if I got Pepper's drift right, these are some top-level babies we're sitting. Specialists, he said. Probably means spooks, black-ops types."

The avian frowned. "Sounds like a mess we shouldn't be involved in. Come on, man, we're freakin' Starfox. Money's been pouring in since the war, we don't need this crap."

"We should help end it once and for all. Besides, it's easy money like you said." Fox hid a grin. "I just think you want to get back to bed."

"Well, considering I told Katt I was going to answer the phone and I'd be right back…yeah, I doubt she's gonna be in the mood for much when I get back."

"Just tell her you were called out to help save the galaxy."

Falco scoffed and gave up on the feathers. "I use that line all the time. She doesn't even care when it's true. Hey, you think I can send a transmission to the Great Fox real quick?"

With a roll of his eyes, Fox slowly raised altitude to get a better sweep of the ocean. Nothing in visual range yet. "Sure, man. Break radio silence, jeopardize the mission, the specialists, the Macbethian military, the people of Forshaw, and piss off CASOC. Knowing whether your girlfriend's still hot for you takes priority."

"I knew you'd see it my way. That's why you're our illustrious leader." Falco made a reach for the comm.

"Keep off, smart ass."

Falco groaned. "Well next time take Slippy, not like you'll ever have to worry about pulling him away from a girlfriend."

"Here, make yourself useful and take the controls. I'll work the door." Fox switched his control station off and unbuckled his harness. He maneuvered himself between the seats back to the empty troop cabin and disengaged the lock on the sliding door. "The marker's on the water; I'm assuming a ship. See anything?"

"Hang on, coming up on the waypoint. Uh…hmm…wait, I might have something. Yeah, I see a cargo freighter down there. Lots of containers on the deck. Don't see our guests though."

"Take us down and hover by the bow." As their speed reduced, Fox grunted and pulled the door wide open, greeted by a blast of cold salty air. He lowered to one knee for stability and hung on to the handle, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. The freighter lowered more and the outline of the ship came into view, gray against the night, a long freighter with massive containers stacked on the deck as Falco had said. As the Shrike settled into a hover just above the deck at the bow, Fox squinted to find the people they were supposed to pick up. He noticed some bodily forms and swallowed when he realized they weren't moving; at least five bodies he could see lay sprawled on the deck. The ship was silent, lifeless, as if the angel of death had descended for a collection. "See anything?"

"Just some stiffs," came the reply from the cockpit. "Wait a minute…"

Fox saw them a moment later, shadows shimmering from the dark corners of the containers, predators lying in wait. They had been invisible yet in plain view the entire time. The dark figures cautiously approached the Shrike, Fox's eyes still not able to fully focus on them. One of them spoke.

"CASOC?"

"Yeah." Fox swallowed again as he noticed a couple guns pointed at him. "Temple sent me."

That seemed good enough. The five soldiers brushed past him and took seats around the cabin, hardly a sound made between them. When no more appeared to be present, Fox slid the door shut and made his way back to the cockpit. He stole a few glances at the newcomers: black combat suits and vests, modular silenced assault rifles, black masks that covered their faces, even twin-ocular HUDS that covered their eyes. No wonder they had seemed invisible; they were night incarnate with their attire and movements.

Fox slid back into his seat and took over the controls again, lifting away from the ship. Not five seconds passed before a startling roar and shockwave shook the transport, causing Falco to curse and look out the side window where an orange glow lit the darkness. Fox didn't need to look; he knew that one of the wraiths in the cabin had just sent the ship on its way to the bottom.

"Who are you with?"

Fox realized a voice from the back was talking to him. "Starfox. I'm Fox McCloud, this is Falco Lombardi."

"Good for you. Patch local comms to CASOC and try to keep this bucket in the air."

As Fox did so, he heard scoffs from the cabin and someone utter, "mercenary" with disdain. He furrowed his brow; why such a hostile reaction? Ever since the war he hadn't met a military man who didn't want to buy him a drink or shake his hand or at least greet him with enthusiasm. Falco seemed to share his surprise but shrugged it off with an eye-roll. Fox forced a chuckle and shook his head as he modified the comm channels, hoping he hadn't gotten so used to fame that he gave a crap what a few soldiers thought of him.

A firm baritone voice spoke from the rear, a man Fox assumed to be the leader: "Temple, this is Longbow. Objective Avalanche has been destroyed, all personnel neutralized. Two warheads were discovered and deactivated. Request permission to continue."

Fox and Falco exchanged a glance. Warheads?

"Roger, Temple. Continuing to Objective Victor." The comm channel closed and Longbow leaned closer to the cockpit. "Listen up, mercenary. CASOC is uploading a new waypoint. Go in low and fast, drop us off, and stand by for extraction. Think you can handle that or do you need me to write it down?"

Peeved, Fox narrowed his eyes and looked over his shoulder at the soldier. In the small gap around the man's eyes between the HUD and mask, he could make out red fur. When coupled with the canid shape of the muzzle under the mask, Fox guessed he was a fellow red fox. It didn't make him feel any friendlier. "Just sit back. I'll do my job and you do yours. Fair enough?"

"If you can remember your loyalty that long."

Fox felt the annoyance turn to anger in his gut. He set a course for the new waypoint and kept the altitude low; it pointed inland toward the warzone and he didn't like the AA positions spread around it. Course set, he glanced over his shoulder again and saw that Longbow had rejoined his teammates. Falco shook his head, seeing that his leader was about to talk again, but Fox went ahead anyway. "Do you know who we are?"

"Keep it down. We have a mission to prepare for."

"Seriously, do you know?"

With a sigh, Longbow turned toward him; he could feel the soldier's eyes burning him even through the HUD oculars. "Yes, I know who Starfox is. Every now and then when we get an hour or two of rest between finishing off the remnants of the war, we see you and your little buddies on the vidscreen smirking at cameras and pretending you won the war on your own and rolling in money. Sorry to dent your ego, but we're not fawning fans."

"Huh." Fox shrugged. "So even after what we did in the war you don't trust me to fly your team?"

"Oh, I trust your piloting ability. I just don't trust _you_…or any mercenary. You're all no better than rabid dogs, siding with the army that throws you the most meat."

"You know," Falco chimed in, looking back, "I think someone's just a little pissed at his sixty-credit paycheck."

Longbow's head slowly turned toward Falco and gave him a hard stare. "Do you have any idea how easy it would be to make you disappear?"

The avian scoffed and opened his mouth to retort, but he stopped, blinked, and gave a few more nervous scoffs as he turned back toward the canopy.

"Forget it," Fox said, following suit and facing forward. "Just remember that we're on the same side at least."

"Unfortunately."

Fox didn't want to think about what Longbow meant by that. He focused on the war torn, flaming town rapidly growing closer, the fire reflected in the lapping waves of the ocean. Easing the Shrike lower, he said, "Hold on, we're coming up on land. This thing would be an AA magnet so I'm going in low, prepare for some chop. ETA two minutes."

Turbulence rocked the Shrike as it dove low, weaving between the steel skeletons of modest skyscrapers. Smoke filled the air from multiple fires around the coastal town; rubble and destroyed military vehicles illuminated the battle below, bathing the town in an eerie glow. Muzzle flashes from rifles and other small arms blinked in the dark urban recesses, desperate defenders and persistent aggressors locked in a stalemate, each taking whatever shots they could get off in the limited visibility. Fox had seen enough of that in the war to last more than one lifetime. He couldn't tell the Macbethians from the Venomians but it didn't matter for his mission; the AA guns were hostile and that's all he had to focus on.

"Fifteen seconds."

The waypoint on the canopy display blinked and vanished as the Shrike descended upon it. Fox brought the ship down fast and fired the retro thrusters at the last moment, kicking up a billow of ash and dust. Proud of the quick yet light landing, he said, "Down and clear," with a smirk and looked over his shoulder only to find no one to gloat to.

The specialists were gone, engulfed by the shadows of the ravaged town, not a trace left except the open side door.

-

* * *

-

"There goes another one," Falco pointed out.

From his holding pattern above Forshaw, Fox saw the explosion also, a billow of flame amongst many. This one served a better purpose than simple destruction; an AA gun fell silent. Enough had gone down to allow him a feeling of relative safety above the town, though the street fighting hadn't appeared to diminish. Small arms fire still lit the streets, interlaced with rocket exhaust trails and energy pulses.

"That's the fourth Venomian anti-air gun to go down in the last hour," the avian continued. "All the fighting isn't anywhere near them. You think it's…you know, them?"

"I don't know," Fox replied, though he was pretty certain the specialists were responsible. "You'd think the way that one asshole was talking they'd just turn the guns on us."

"That's spooks for you. Arrogant bastards. They're just jealous that we kicked so much ass in the war and they were probably left in the dust."

Another explosion, not too far from the last AA gun. Fox could tell from the green hue of the flames that a tank had gone up, its energy cell shells along with it. "Yeah…maybe."

Fox's headset fizzled to life, a couple bursts of static breaking the connection as encryptions secured the channel. "Looks like it's time to bug out."

"'Bout damn time," Falco muttered, adjusting his own comm.

_"Starfox Lead, this is callsign Claymore. Your operational area has been assigned to me. Stand by for further orders."_

Fox furrowed his brow in concern, a look mirrored by Falco. "This is Starfox Lead. I'm going to need the contract verification number for confirmation."

_"Sierra-kilo-delta-four-four-six."_

"Alright, go ahead. We're standing by to extract the Cornerian ground team."

_"You have a new priority objective. The specialists have obtained critical intelligence and have secured the datapad in the hollow leg of a church altar. I need you to get that datapad ASAP before Venomian forces come across it."_

"What about the specialists?"

_"They have their own orders. Once the datapad is retrieved, return to standby and await my signal to extract them."_

Falco scoffed and shook his head. "This is nuts. You want us to go down into that shitstorm? We didn't sign up for that."

_"The church's vicinity is relatively quiet, far from the main combat zone. Besides, CASOC is prepared to double your fee."_

Falco's eyebrows shot up.

"We'll do it," Fox said. "Upload the coordinates."

_"Uploading now. I advise you to shoot on sight; Macbeth pulled out of that sector long ago. Good luck, Starfox Lead."_

_-_

_

* * *

_

_-  
_

Fox sprinted from the shadows and ducked behind a collapsed brick wall, his heart racing and his breathing shallow. He gripped his pistol with a sweaty palm, his finger on the trigger and the safety off. It had been a while since a job required small arms combat, let alone in a warzone. The danger didn't bother him; after so many battles the fear of death was just another natural emotion kept in check with the rest. No, there was something else…the environment. Darkness above, fires below, ruins on all sides, corridors of rubble and debris-ridden alleys the only safe paths of movement. The Venomians had done a number on Forshaw; aerial bombardments undoubtedly preceded the invasion and they weren't too worried with collateral damage. Not every dead body wore a military uniform.

One benefit of fighting in the air…a pilot was spared such sights.

_"Are you close?"_

Fox jumped at the sound of Falco's voice in his ear. He growled at himself and activated his comm. "Almost. It's slow moving. Claymore was right, I haven't run into any Venomians but there are blind spots everywhere. It's a sniper's dream down here." He popped his head around the sooty wall only to be greeted by another street bearing the scars of war. The sounds of gunfire and explosions from the main combat zones remained distant but clear. "Damn…who knew enough Venomian soldiers were left to do something like this?"

_"Nutjobs die hard, I guess."_

Fox swallowed a sudden pang of guilt. "I can't believe shit like this was going on while we were just sleeping. Venomians couldn't sneeze without us knowing about it back in the war. What happened? Did we kill Andross, get rich, and just forget that his minions were still a threat?"

_"Oh come on, we can't be everywhere all the time. We already did our part, more than enough. Just get this done so we can get out of here. Bad enough you're down there alone."_

Though the nagging guilt still gnawed at his gut, Fox pushed it aside for the time being. The whole affair made him want to resurrect Andross and kill him again but the last thing he needed was a distraction. Plenty of time to think when he's not surrounded by a war. "Either I go alone or we leave our only way out unattended. And this looks like a bad neighborhood."

_"Yeah, yeah, just make it snappy."_

Fox continued down the street hugging the sides, glass and shattered stone crunching beneath his feet. At another intersection he peeked around the blown-out storefront of a bakery and spotted the church towering over the other buildings at the end of the street. He could tell it had been crafted in an old style with carved stone, archways, intricate roof work, and a tall steeple. A bomb or two had disfigured the beautiful structure, having caved in nearly half of the ceiling and the entire right wall. Fox could see into the church from his position, where fire and moonlight showed emptiness.

"I'm here. Making my way inside."

Fox jogged the rest of the way, his eyes darting between darkened windows and doorways on either side of the street. He clambered over the debris mound that had once been the church wall and hopped down into the structure, pistol up and at the ready. Most of the internal infrastructure was stable but the force of the bombs had blown pews around and strewn the ground with stone. Fire on the other side of the church shone through the few remaining shards of stained glass window, casting layers of colored light over the mess.

As Fox carefully made his way toward the altar, he glimpsed a number of bodies slumped on the floor against it. A few wore Macbethian army uniforms and at least fifteen others were garbed in civilian clothes. He hurried forth to see if any still lived but he could already tell it was a wasted effort; blood seeped under them from gunshot wounds to the heads and chests. The shots were precise; executions. Fox could practically see their fates played out…soldiers leading what few civilians they could muster to a universal symbol of sanctuary, only to be overrun by the Venomians.

"It's clear," Fox said into his headset, still looking at the bodies. "Venomians have come and gone."

Only a few violent bursts of static replied.

"Falco? Falco, you read?"

Upon more static, he grimaced. Could be a side effect of the battle, one side or the other deploying a scrambler or something else interfering with the comm network. Fox tried to keep his worry at bay; he'd find this data, return to where the Shrike had dropped him, and see if comms cleared up. If not, he'd try some other way to signal Falco, assuming the Shrike hadn't been shot down…or the Venomians didn't find him first…or a sniper didn't nail him…

Fox shook his head and forced his gaze away from the bodies. The last thing he needed was fear playing tricks on him and making him panic. He couldn't help but miss his Arwing, soaring high above this chaos, where he was master of the air. He kept that calming thought in his mind: finishing this damn job, hauling ass back to the Great Fox, hopping in the Arwing, then coming back and blowing these Venomians to hell, contract or not.

Fox hopped onto the altar and looked around the ceremonial table, which still stood only because it was bolted to the ground. He checked for hollows in both legs, along the underside of the wood, around the carpet…no datapad. Did the Venomians get to it first? With a frustrated sigh, Fox placed his hands on the table and looked up.

And his breath caught in his throat.

A flicker of movement had escaped from the corner of his eye; not a trick of the light, of that he was sure, but not clear enough to be identified. He stared at the far side of the rubble pile clear across the church where he had seen the movement. Only shadow. Pistol aimed ahead of him, he crept down to the pews and inched forward, not daring to blink.

"I saw you!" Fox finally shouted into the silent church. "Come out unarmed and I won't fire!"

The shadows remained still and the air hung heavy.

"Come out now or I'll fire on sight! Where are you?!"

As his last word escaped his mouth, Fox froze. He became aware of a light breeze to his right and the intangible feeling of a presence. He wasn't even surprised when he heard a single word from a mouth not five feet away:

"Boo."

He swung around, finger already pulling the trigger, when a rifle blast took him in the chest, knocking him back. A second one blew him off his feet and he landed hard on his back, his pistol sliding away. His chest sizzled, heat eating through the energy-resist vest under his jacket. His eyes flickered and all he could think of was that he would die here next to the executed civilians, killed by Venomians even after the war was declared over. He survived the war only to meet his end running a simple contract. Refusing to give up, he frantically pulled himself toward his pistol. A hard boot kicked him back down.

"Somehow I knew we'd meet like this. Didn't think it would be so soon."

Fox lay still; he recognized that voice. He stopped trying to get away and looked up at the black-clad figure looming over him, assault rifle aimed squarely at his head. The black mask and twin-ocular HUD still hid him. "Longbow?"

The soldier said nothing as his finger tightened around the trigger.

"Wait! What the hell are you doing?! I'm down here to help you!"

The finger stopped but did not loosen.

Fox continued, "I'm here to retrieve some datapad that you guys left. CASOC sent me."

The finger eased back. "Who gave you the assignment?"

"Oh, uh…Claymore. I've never heard the callsign before. My usual contact is General Pepper."

Seconds dragged on with the barrel of the rifle staring him in the face. He wasn't sure how long he lay there but when every second could end with a laser barbequing his brain, time slowed to a near halt.

Finally, Longbow raised the rifle and turned away, muttering, "Son of a bitch."

Fox wasn't sure what had happened or what made the soldier change his mind but he wasted no time; he scooped up his gun and hopped to his feet, ready to use it if Longbow made another aggressive move. The laser blasts still smoldered under his jacket; no more groaning to Peppy for the hare's insistence that the vests be worn on ground missions. "You mind telling me why you shot me? Hell, I know you don't like me but—"

"Shut up," the soldier said flatly. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and fiddled with a wrist computer strapped to his left forearm, a model Fox had never seen before with a very subtle and clear touch display and semi-holo readouts. After a moment, Fox heard a click in his ear and Longbow put his finger to his own comm earpiece. "Claymore, this is Longbow. The mercenary is dead but the datapad is gone. Request further orders."

Fox waited, confused, as the soldier finished the deceptive transmission.

"Roger. Out." Longbow turned and looked Fox up and down. "You injured?"

"My chest burns like hell, asshole. What are you lying to CASOC for? What's going on?"

"Call the Shrike, tell your buddy to pick us up. Now."

"My comm's jammed."

Longbow tapped his wrist computer. "That was me. I was watching you since you stumbled in here, thought you were here to kill me." He gave a short chuckle, as if the very thought amused him. "Call the Shrike."

"I'm not doing a goddamn thing until you tell me why you shot me and lied to CASOC."

"Why should I tell you anything?" Longbow's head moved as he spoke, scanning for possible threats. The rifle remained lowered but held firm, ready to be brought up in an instant. "You may not be an enemy now but you're still a mercenary."

Fox rolled his eyes. "Still going on with that, huh?"

"You were made to be a hero because of nothing more than a simple revenge story. A man kills a boy's parents so the boy grows to kill the man. Simple enough. There just happened to be a war going on and the man happened to be Lylat's number one enemy. You sided with Corneria because it helped in your vendetta. Who knows who you would've sided with if mommy and daddy hadn't been killed by Andross?"

"I've turned down plenty of offers from Venom sympathizers, jobs that paid way better than Corneria. But I'm here now, right? I want to help you do whatever the hell you have to do to beat back Venom."

Longbow didn't reply, the cool gleam of his HUD oculars staring back.

"CASOC trusts me," Fox continued. "Isn't that enough for right now?"

"I don't trust mercenaries. Catching on to that yet?"

"Well I'm not getting paid for this part so technically I'm just a stranded pilot who wants to help this town and make it out alive. Good enough?"

Longbow remained silent for another few moments. When he finally spoke, his words carried an air of reluctance. "Claymore is Rear Admiral Breckenridge of the Cornerian Navy, also an advisor to CASOC. Intel's been suspicious of him ever since the second half of the war; they thought Breckenridge was selling out to Venom, a high-ranking mole. Nothing ever stuck. His flagship was supposed to be patrolling this area when the Venomians slipped through and invaded Forshaw and a few military installations on the other side of the planet."

"Convenient," Fox muttered.

"Yeah. I'm sure Temple told you that Macbeth needs to win this one on their own which is why my unit was sent in covertly to help. We're here to take out any Venomian targets of opportunity but our main is to find four rogue thermonuclear warheads. We think Breckenridge is using this battle as a cover to sell the warheads to a Venomian colonel codenamed Vulture. My team found two on that cargo ship you picked us up from. Apparently the bastard caught wind of our investigation; he sent us on a wild goose chase for this 'datapad' so we'd kill each other. If I killed you, my team would be stranded and he could pick us off through the night. If you killed me, my part of the investigation would die with me."

Fox nodded. "Okay, so you told Claymore I'm dead. What did he want you to do?"

"What else? Link back up with my team and continue taking out Venomian targets. He and Vulture would make sure we're all killed eventually, even if he has to shoot down the Shrike himself. But we have to stop those warheads from changing hands. If we lose them tonight, the next time we see them may be when they light up a couple Macbethian cities. You catching all this, mercenary?"

"Yeah, I get it." Fox put his finger to his comm and flicked it off and on again to purge the jam. "Falco, you read me."

_"God damn, there you are. What the hell happened?"_

"Long story short, a corrupt admiral is conducting an arms deal right in the middle of this battle. I have Longbow with me and we need a pickup so we can stop it."

_"Uh…what..?"_

"Just pick us up at the LZ."

-

* * *

-

Longbow crouched beside the open side door, staring out at Forshaw as the Shrike flew low over the ravaged rooftops. He had been trying to use the ship's comm to bypass Claymore's hijacked frequency and re-establish connection to Temple. Finally, Fox heard progress as the soldier spoke intermittently.

"Temple, this is Longbow…yes, sir…we have confirmation of Claymore's treason but have not located rogue warheads. We—…yes, sir…copy that. Out."

The specialist hurried to the cockpit and leaned between the pilot and co-pilot seats, subdued agitation in his movements. "Temple's been getting repeated distress calls from my team for the past half hour. It looks like Claymore tipped of Vulture to us and the bastard's rerouted a load of Venomian troops to hunt them down. They're hunkered in a corner café near the center of town. Get going! Now!"

"Right, hold on." Fox rolled the Shrike and pulled up sharply as he hit the thrusters, darting toward the center of Forshaw.

It took them less than a minute to arrive, given the moderate size of the town. Fox spotted the all too familiar sight of combat from below. He pulled away, thinking it to be the main combat zone between Macbeth and Venom but as he neared he saw that most of the gunfire was heading into a corner building with sporadic return fire from inside.

"Holy hell," Falco breathed. "Would ya look at that? There must be two or three platoons down there."

Fox frowned. "Well someone's still alive in there if they're still shooting. But how are we supposed to—"

"Get down there now!" Longbow hurried back to the open side cabin door and slid it open all the way. He unlatched the stowed heavy energy repeater from the roof and swung it into position facing out the door. A flick of the power switch and the gun hummed to life. "I take it you're competent enough to fly a support pattern, mercenary."

"Shut up and lay on the trigger."

Fox swooped low and settled into a slow circular flight plan over the area, giving the side gun any angle it needed. No sooner had he flown into range than the sky rained down death, the heavy gun pulsing and spewing forth rapid streams of green energy lasers. Longbow fired with expert precision and sweeping motions, taking out multiple targets with each burst. Soon, return fire from inside the café intensified, forcing back the Venomians who now had to defend from two fronts. Rifle fire peppered the belly armor of the Shrike and zipped up past the canopy before Fox's eyes.

"AA!" Falco shouted. "Roof!"

Fox didn't hesitate; he pulled the stick back, making the Shrike lurch up just as a rocket rushed through the air where the cockpit had been a moment before. He yawed toward the origin of the exhaust trail and Longbow opened up. The specialist called out that it was clear and Fox returned to the support pattern, his heart racing from the near disaster and his eyes sharp for any more surprise attacks.

"They're backing off!" Longbow finally said, continuing the suppression fire. "The zone's still hot but we can pull off a fast pickup. Can you get this bucket down between the buildings and hold it there?"

Fox grinned slyly to himself. "And here I thought you'd ask me to do something hard."

Falco rolled his eyes.

His hands light on the controls, Fox eased the ship between the encroaching buildings on either side of the street, brick and steel threatening to scrape the hull or damage the thruster mounts. Longbow kept up the fire, keeping the Venomians' heads down. The soldier was incredibly exposed but held his position anyway. However, now that the Shrike was nearly at ground level some of the enemy fire came dangerously close to pounding the inside of the cabin…and the cockpit. Just as Fox looked over his shoulder to check the side door's position a red laser whizzed past Longbow, past his own cheek, and spider-webbed the canopy. Another seared his seatback, thankfully protected by the chassis.

"Shit," Fox yelped, blinking rapidly to clear the heat that nearly seared them. "Where are they?! We need to get out of here!"

"Ten seconds!"

They were some of the longest seconds of Fox's life. Falco let out a continuous stream of curses as his head darted around at the Venomians surrounding them; the Shrike was tough but even the toughest ship would eventually succumb. The black-garbed soldiers charged at the ship one by one, their comrades covering their movements. One remained, a lithe figure with a lighter weapon than the others; Fox swore the soldier was female and the prospect surprised him. She sprinted and dove into the cabin, light yet clumsy, obviously injured and favoring her left side. With each soldier accounted for, Fox punched the thrusters and ascended like a rocket, sparks showering the air as the wing clipped the unstable side of the café. Before long, the rifle fire stopped and only the cool sea air surrounded them.

"We're clear," Fox said, checking his display. He wiped sweat from his brow and took a few deep breaths to calm his heart. "Everyone okay?"

No one answered him but a flurry of voices erupted from the cabin. A glance back found the dirty, war-weary soldiers huddling around the prone female. Though the voices couldn't be matched to a face he caught a few names in the chaos.

"Dammit, Starlet was hit. Get her mask off."

"Ley…Ley…can you hear me?"

"…Gage…"

"Just keep still, you'll be fine."

"Blunt trauma to the head, sir. A blast took out the wall next to her. Looks like a broken rib or two and a fractured wrist."

"Serious?"

"If the impact cracked her skull she could hemorrhage. We need a hospital to know for sure. All I can do right now is patch her head and tape the bones."

"Do it."

"Sir, the nukes have changed hands. Vulture's escaping in a convoy heading east. They were expecting us. Claymore's men were there."

"Mercenary!"

Fox looked over his shoulder again. One of the specialists was tending to the female, a leopardess he now saw with her mask and HUD off. Seeing her face inexplicably surprised him, as if he hadn't expected normal people to be under those intimidating masks. Blood discolored her fur and trickled under her head.

"Get on the horn to Temple. Give him a sit-rep and tell him we're going after those nukes."

Fox booted up the comm and ran the encryption, impatiently waiting for a clear signal. "Temple, this is Starfox Lead. Do you read?"

_"This is Temple. What's your status?"_

"The ground team has been retrieved. One injured. Vulture has escaped with the nukes, ground team wishes to pursue."

_"Get it done, Starfox Lead! We need this mission closed ASAP!"_

Falco interjected, "This is a lot more than we bargained for. What kind of fee markup can we—"

"Disregard that last message, Temple. Starfox Lead out." Fox severed the connection and shot a glare at Falco.

"What?" the avian huffed. "This mission's gone to hell; we should be compensated for it!"

"Now's not the time, moron. Just concentrate on what we're doing."

"Fine. Whatever."

Activity in the cabin died down as the medic gently laid the female across four lowered seats. The two others knelt by either side of the door, keeping watch on the ground far below. Longbow made his way toward the cockpit and said, "Follow the coast. My man says they were taking the coastal road when they left Forshaw. There's a starport near the next town and if that's Vulture's destination we have to nail him before he gets there. Macbethian strike teams have been notified of this but they won't make it in time. Get going."

"No problem. Get on the gun and get ready."

With thrusters at max, the town of Forshaw was left behind and replaced by rural plains within a minute, the creeping dawn bathing the winding road and beaches with dull light. Nearly a mile ahead in the haze, Fox caught sight of a light armored transport. Then another. Before long, a convoy of at least eight vehicles was revealed speeding along the road. A reinforced flatbed truck was nestled between the armed transports.

"I see them!" Fox shouted back. "Coming up in twenty seconds! The truck in the middle probably has the nukes!"

"Roger. Keep it fast and steady!"

The convoy caught sight of them before Longbow had a clear shot and the transports' mounted guns opened up on the Shrike. Fox dodged as best he could while still trying to keep it steady for his own gunner. Finally, he boosted close enough for Longbow to bring the repeater to full bore, pounding the rear vehicle with lasers. The Venomian transport keeled under the heavy fire and exploded in a massive fireball once the gas tanks were hit.

"Yeah!" Fox whooped. "Keep it up!"

"Get further ahead!"

Fox pulled the throttle to max and gave him a bead on the lead vehicle. The enemy seemed to know what was coming and tried to swerve away but Longbow pelted him until the front left wheel blew off, sending the vehicle into a disastrous series of spins and tumbles that scattered debris and stopped the convoy cold. Longbow rained lasers on he others, nailing any soldier that dared exit the transports and blowing up at least one more vehicle. Finally, the fire stopped followed by a loud curse.

"Gun's out of juice!" Longbow reported. "Bring 'er low! We're going in!"

Fox did so, setting the Shrike to a hover a few feet off the pavement near the wrecked front vehicle. Longbow in the lead, the soldiers hopped to the ground and moved up the convoy, rifles at the ready and taking shots at any visible Venomians. As Fox pulled up on the stick, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and looked back to see the female – Ley, they called her, or Starlet as her callsign – stumble toward the door, submachine gun in hand.

"No!" Fox leapt up, smacking his head on the overhead console, and rushed to the cabin with a quick shout at Falco: "Take over!"

Fox reached for her arm and nearly had it when she jumped, luckily falling only seven feet or so and collapsing to her knees. He hesitated for only a moment before following her, groaning as his shins absorbed the impact. She knelt with her palms on the pavement, head down, taking shallow breaths, barely reacting when he grabbed her under her arms and pulled her behind the cover of the wrecked vehicle.

"I can fight…" she whispered barely audible, her eyes glassed over from the concussion. "Lemme go. I can shoot."

"You have to stay put," Fox replied, wiping blood from the soaked fur. "You're in no condition."

"I can…"

"No, listen…" Fox pulled out the first name he could remember, the only name she spoke back in the cabin. "Gage says to stay put. He gave you a direct order."

She didn't acknowledge him for a few moments, just stared with the glassy gaze. Finally, without a word, she nodded.

"Good." Fox peeked around the side of the vehicle and saw lasers flying from the area around the flatbed truck. "I have to go help. Mind if I borrow this?" He hefted up her submachine gun.

Ley closed her eyes and concentrated on her shallow breathing. She managed to whisper, "Fifty shots. Extra mag in the stock."

"Thanks. We'll be back."

Falco had been forced to pull away, enemy fire sporadically targeting him and keeping him on the move. His air advantage gone, Fox put the stock to his shoulder and pointed the submachine gun down the road, his finger tight on the trigger as he moved forward. Venomian bodies littered the road around the two vehicles in front of the flatbed, the specialists having taken up a defensive perimeter around the truck. Fox sprinted forward and slid behind the truck where two of the soldiers held position.

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

Fox spotted Longbow behind a transport that had swerved and come to rest beside the flatbed. Lasers pelted the hood of the vehicle, keeping him pinned. "Starlet jumped after you and I went after her! She's back there!"

"Keep your head down and shoot anything that ain't us!"

Fox popped around the corner of the truck and let off a few bursts of Ley's impressive submachine gun at the Venomian troops, most of whom were hunkered behind the last two vehicles in the convoy. For the next tense five minutes, no one spoke or gave orders; no one needed to. The specialists held their ground, unwavering as Vulture's men tried to push forward and retake the nukes. Fox stood beside them every second, putting Ley's gun to work. When he finally ran dry, his took out his pistol and continued the fight. Two of the specialists were reduced to their pistols around the same time. Just when it looked like the Venomian numbers were dwindling, one of the specialists shouted from the left side.

"Incoming armor!"

Fox's heart fell. He looked inland and spotted light armored vehicles and troop transports barreling down on them, no more than a mile out.

"Wait…they're Macbethian! It's the strike team!"

The Venomians knew it also. They stopped firing; some tried to run, others dropped their guns and fell to the ground. As Longbow stood and made his way forward an engine started up and one of the light unarmored vehicles near the back tried to push its way out of the convoy, scraping against the burning husk before it. Longbow and his teammates hurried forward, attempting to surround the vehicle, but it shot forth as they approached, nearly running one of them over. Longbow fired a long burst, taking out the rear windshield, but the vehicle sped past the flatbed.

"That was Vulture!" Longbow growled. "He's getting away! Someone take the damn shot! Who has a shot!?"

Three quick cracks sounded, light and inconsequential when compared to the firefight that had preceded it. The vehicle jerked and swayed and finally flipped onto its side, wheels spinning. Fox ran toward it with the other soldiers and spotted three clean holes in the windshield, an unmoving body in the driver's seat. Slumped over the wreckage of the front convoy truck, pistol in hand and a look of satisfaction in her tired, pained eyes, was Ley.

"Crazy bitch," Longbow muttered, though his voice hid a hint of pride. "Come on, let's go before the Macbethians get here. Leave the nukes to them."

-

* * *

-

The Shrike turned some heads at the small Cornerian Navy outpost from which Fox had originally attained it, nearly an hour's flight from Forshaw. The cracked canopy, scorched hull, laser-pocked exterior and interior…Fox was glad the ship wasn't one of his own. He touched down on the landing pad and sighed, glad that the long night was finally over. With an equally relieved breath, Falco followed him to the ground and let the engineers have their way with the Shrike.

A medical crew had been alerted and had Ley on a stretcher and whisked away in no time. The other specialists walked in a group toward the outpost HQ without even a farewell to the pilots. Finally safe in friendly territory, they removed their masks and HUDs and exchanged words.

"Hey!" Fox called out, rushing after them.

Longbow was the last to reveal himself. He pulled his mask and HUD off and turned to face the mercenary. Fox had grown so accustomed to the mask that he was surprised to see the man underneath, a darker-hued red fox with piercing eyes and a stone expression. Longbow just stood and stared, waiting.

"Not even a handshake?" Fox asked.

Longbow narrowed his eyes. "What do you want a handshake for?"

"I dunno, a mutual job well done? I don't like to brag but my piloting saved your asses a couple times."

The other soldiers – a gray wolf, a hulking bear, and a short raccoon – scoffed but Longbow didn't, just kept looking with his steely eyes. Finally, he extended a black glove. "Thanks for helping Ley and sticking to the mission."

Fox took it and they shook once. "My pleasure. But what about Claymore?"

"Don't worry about it. CASOC has a funny feeling that Admiral Breckenridge will have an unfortunate accident in the near future. And CASOC 's hunches usually come true."

"Good luck to you all then," Fox grinned. "You know, I don't know your name. Hell, I didn't even know what you looked like until two seconds ago."

"You know more than you should. See you around, mercenary." He turned and continued with his men toward the HQ.

"I have a name you know."

"So do I. But why bother?"

Fox grinned again and watched as the mysterious unit disappeared into the building to be with their injured teammate.

-

* * *

_TDE Station Alpha  
0233 hours  
-_

"It's funny," Gage said with a grin, his eyes lost in the memory of the day. "Ley still insists she was alright and you forced her to stay put."

Fox rolled his eyes. "And you still insist you could've accomplished the mission without me."

"I've pulled off worse snafus than that. Look, the point of this little jaunt into the past is that you were the first mercenary to earn my respect. The only one, actually. So no matter how close you came to acting like Dianus, you didn't, and I should have known that. If you have to face Dianus, I'll be right behind you or ahead of you or wherever you need me to be."

"That's all I need, your death on my conscious also."

"Hey," Gage looked him square in the eye. "I'd give my life for anyone on my team, and that includes you."

Fox nodded. "Me too. You're like family, as close to me as anyone on Starfox." He stood. "Thanks, Gage. Really. I feel a little better."

"No problem." Gage stood also. The two foxes shook hands in farewell but the gesture turned into an embrace between combat brothers which lasted but a few seconds.

"Guess I better try and get some sleep," the lighter fox said.

"Keep your mind distracted. Think about what to name the new Great Fox." Gage climbed back into bed and eased his head on the pillow with a long, relaxed sigh. "Unless you're just going to keep the namesake. Like Great Fox Two, or Great Fox: The Sequel, or Great Fox Adventures…"

Fox chuckled. "What would you name it?"

"Hmm…I'd have to go with Star Turkey."

"Uh…what?"

"That's what the Great Fox always looked like to me, a giant mutated turkey with four wings and fire coming out of its ass."

Fox laughed, therapeutic after the tense night. "I think I'll keep looking, thanks anyway. Night."

"See you tomorrow, mercenary."

The light clicked off and the door closed, leaving Gage alone once again in the still, eternal night that surrounded the space station. Remembrance of the Forshaw mission kept pace in his mind for a few minutes but eventually the memories faded and he was left in the present. He turned onto his side and closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep. He had put on a convincing show when Fox walked in, pretending to be awakened. But like Fox, he hadn't slept a wink, kept alert by riling thoughts. Unlike Fox, however, his thoughts were not ones that disturbed or jarred him but rather feelings unlike any he had ever felt, ones he could not describe and would never want to. He felt pressured, crushed between two passions that could never coexist: his job, and…

He raised his hand slowly under the sheet and touched the end of his muzzle where the tingling of Fara's kiss, broken hours before, still lingered.

-

_**-Chapter 15 Coming Soon-**_


	21. Before I Wake

[Author's Note: Not much introduction needed this time. Bit of a different angle, hope you all like it. As ever, thanks for reading/reviewing and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 16  
Before I Wake  
_Unknown  
Unknown_

_-  
_

"Tell them the mission has failed."

Gage knelt on the cold metal floor on Artemis Thirteen, the blood from the young, caved-in head pooling around him and warming him. It spread all around, engulfing the metal from wall to wall, crawling up onto his lap and trickling up his chest.

"Tell them the mission has failed."

_"This is command. Fix it, captain."_

"Tell them the mission has failed."

_"Fix it, captain!"_

Gage looked at the young feline's broken, disfigured skull. He reached his hand inside the skull, fished pieces of bone from the mush of gray matter and blood, tried to fix them desperately in place like a jigsaw puzzle. The pieces always collapsed. "I can't."

_"You have to fix it, captain!"_

"I can't fix it!" He frantically shoved pieces of skull into each other but they wouldn't make the child whole again. "Hellion and the bomb. Hell and the bomb."

Red mist filled Gage's eyes. The entire room had filled with it, a ghastly fog. He looked up; Ley stood over him, her head broken and shattered just like the child's. She stared at him with her one intact eye, opened her mouth to scream, but all he heard was Hellion's voice coming from nowhere, all around him.

"_You all with your military training and polished boots and yes-sir no-sir, you think you've seen it all. Well now you've seen chaos. Now you've seen us. What do you think?"_

She fell to her knees, screaming silently in agony. Delaine fell beside her, his lupine head shattered in exactly the same way.

_"What do you think?"_

His chest tight, his head swimming, his limbs unresponsive, Gage tried to mend everyone. He tried to fix it. He scooped blood from the ground to fill the heads but it all fell through his fingers.

The dead child spoke with a voice Gage didn't recognize, yet knew immediately, yet couldn't place. "Fix it."

Gage wept, his tears lost in the pool of blood. He tried to work on the child's skull again but his pistol was in his hand. He couldn't drop it, couldn't loosen his fingers from the gun. He tried to piece the child together but could do nothing, the pistol barrel nudging and poking and breaking the bone as he worked.

_"What do you think?"_

Gage looked up. Ares and Eris stood near a door marked with black letters that wouldn't stay still, wouldn't allow themselves to be focused upon. They laughed, their piercing voices blindingly loud. They ran through the door, their laugh shattering the station around them. Gage rose and pursued them; the silent screams from those he couldn't fix caused his skin to tremor.

He sprinted in desperation as the station fell apart but his legs were heavy, his movements slow and abated. The station turned into a maze, identical silver hallways and identical silver doors in every direction. Each door led to another identical hallway, the laughter his only clue to follow. At last the doors became wooden, white with worn, chipped paint and colorful stickers on them, the door of his childhood bedroom. He opened one and instead of an entrance found a mirror. His reflection stared back and broke into tears, finally collapsing into an uncontrollable heap. Frightened, Gage turned away and ran down another hallway and opened the door. Another mirror. His reflection glared back in rage and screamed at him, fists pounding against the mirror, trying to get out. Gage shut the door and ran down another hallway.

_"What do you think?"_

He flung the door wide and came face to face with another reflection: Leon. Gage felt his face and Leon mirrored the movements. Then the lizard acted on his own; he grinned and spoke:

"When you look at me, Captain, you might as well be looking in a mirror. Except that I do not have demons, as you do. I accept what I am."

Gage retorted but his words lagged behind his mouth. "I'm not you. We're nothing alike. I'm nothing alike."

"Demons to curse. Curse Birse. The curse, the curse, the curse…."

Gage attacked the mirror and the stuttering Leon, shattering it. Sorrow gripping him, he fell to his knees.

_"Fix it."_

"I can't." Gage tried to put the mirror back together. "I want to go home. Mom made macaroons. I can smell them from down the block." He couldn't avoid nicking himself on the sharp shards. "Today must be special. Can you smell them?"

Gage held up one of the shards and caught the reflection of something over his shoulder. He hopped up and turned around. Ares and Eris stood far away, motionless, still as gargoyles. Gage stared back. He blinked; in that split second of eyelid movement they had moved closer, their bodies still motionless. His heart raced, fear causing him to tremble. He couldn't help blinking again; the twins appeared closer, as still as corpses. His wet eyes made him blink more rapidly. Before he knew it, the tigers stood only a foot before him, their faces locked in masks of cruel humor. Then their mouths moved and multiple voices poured forth, each one overlapping the other so Gage couldn't understand anything. He closed his eyes.

"One hostage, one hostile. Seems simple enough."

Gage's eyes flew open. He stood beside the doorway to an expensive penthouse, his team stacked up behind him. A man was inside, the mission said, a desperate man with an important hostage. "We breach in five."

He counted down the seconds and kicked the door in, his rifle shouldered and aimed ahead. A red fox in a black combat suit stood at the far end of the living room, his arm locking the neck of his living shield, a red fox in a black combat suit, a gun held to his head. Gage looked at himself, the hostage, and then himself, the hostile. He opened fire, putting multiple lasers through both of them until they both collapsed dead.

"Why, sir?"

Gage shrugged. "They were both screwed anyway."

A side door opened and Fox McCloud walked out, offering a cheerful wave at the Dagger team. He breezed by Gage and clapped him on the shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Take it easy in there, mercenary."

Gage watched him leave, watched him effortlessly step over the corpses of his team; they all lay on the floor, their broken skulls painting the expensive carpet dark crimson. He dropped his rifle and walked to the door Fox had opened. His steps seemed not to bring him closer; the door retreated the more he tried to get to it. Finally, he grabbed hold of the old fashioned knob, afraid he would fall back if he let go, and shoved himself through the doorway.

A marvelous washroom lay before him. A red vixen sat on the edge of a spacious tub, wearing only a towel, her fingers gently flicking steamy water that rushed from the faucet. Fara looked up at Gage and smiled. She stood and sauntered toward him, her eyes mischievous.

"There's room for two," she said, draping her forearms over his shoulders, rubbing her body against his.

"Two is too many. One is not enough."

She kissed him. Gage closed his eyes and let it happen, his body on fire. He opened his eyes and gasped; Fara's head had suddenly been ravaged just like the child's, blood streaming down her fur. She eased back and her one remaining eye narrowed in confusion. Gage tried not to backpedal in fear. She reached up and felt her own head, what was left of her face contorting in horror as she realized her fate.

"Fix it, Gage?"

_"What do you think?"_

"Fix it!" Fara fell upon Gage, forcing him onto his back. She grabbed his shirt and begged him, pleaded, blood from her head raining down on his own face. Gage tried to struggle away and tell her it would be alright but the blood choked him, filled his throat. He coughed and sputtered, devoid of air. He felt himself slipping away, dying…

Choking…

-

* * *

-

Gage's eyes flew open and he gasped, swallowing air as quickly as his heaving chest would allow. Sweat soaked his fur, chilling him in the cold recycled space station air. He peeled the sheets back and sat up, wiping his face with his clammy hands and shivering more from the dream than the cold. He could still feel everything on his skin, hear everything echoing in his ears. Ghosts from the dream hid behind his eyelids and shimmered in the dark guest room.

"Lights," he uttered, his voice rough. The illumination did little to help; it wasn't the dark that frightened him.

"Good morning, sir."

Gage winced and looked over his shoulder at the vid-comm console on the desk near the window. A receptionist's face smiled on the book-size screen, the lupine "Julie" model Beltino had designed.

"The time is 5:02, sir, approximately one hour earlier than your expected awakening. Would you like something to aid in rest?"

The fox rubbed his heavy eyes and grunted, "Fuck off, you robotic bitch."

"Suggestion noted, sir. Please dial zero if you have any further needs. Have a nice day!"

With a long exhale, Gage stood and staggered to the bathroom. A couple splashes of cold water on his face helped ease the humid sweaty feeling and the following gulps eased the fire in his parched throat. Careful to avoid looking in the mirror over the sink, he stepped back into the bedroom and his eyes fell upon the vid-comm.

_They're open all day and night…they always listened before…_

Gage stood and stared at the vid-comm for over a minute, his mind simultaneously going over the dream and trying to forget it. It started the same way it always had before, back on Artemis Thirteen. Though his conscious mind couldn't repeat Ares' exact words, somehow the dream always nailed it…the same way it did for Leon, a newcomer to the recurring nightmare. Fara…another unwelcome addition to the mess. Gage had thought that after dozens of nights of this dream in the past few years he would've been desensitized to it, but leave it to his damn mind to mix it up and make it worse. The worst part was always how real it felt even after he awoke, as if the entire dream was a true memory.

He couldn't relax, couldn't ease his heart down from its fight-or-flight pace. He needed someone to speak with, someone he could be honest with, someone who wouldn't be around when it was over, or judge him, or lose respect for him. There was only one place he knew to find that.

_They always listen…_

Gage sat in the chair before the vid-comm and punched in the number he knew by heart. As the tone indicated an attempted connection, he turned off the screen to block visual feed as he always did. The usual pit of nervousness formed in his stomach but he ignored it; once he got started it always went away.

A sultry female voice answered the call, her voice low and breathy. _"Thanks for calling Bad Kitties, lover. Three credits per minute, two for every minute after ten. All major cards accepted. Card number, please."_

Gage cleared his throat. "You have it on file. Birse. Last four digits, seven six one three."

A pause. _"Welcome back, you. I hope you love it as much as ever. You have a girl preference?"_

"No…no, not really."

_"Well, let me put you through to Angel. She'll make sure you have a heavenly time. Hold, please."_

Gage stared out the window at space, suddenly feeling colder. He leaned over, grabbed his jacket from where he tossed it the night before, and draped it over his shoulders.

_"Hey there, sugar. This is Angel. I'm all alone right now, stretched out on this big bed and wearing nothing but—"_

"Wait, wait. You don't have to do that."

_"Well, you have your screen off, we can't see each other. Nothing wrong with it, we get lots of shy guys, but talking's about all I can do."_

"No, I mean…Angel, what's your real name?"

A moment's hesitation. _"Sarah."_

"What I mean, Sarah, is that I'd just like to talk."

_"This is phone sex, sugar. Talking's our specialty."_

Gage swallowed. "I just need someone to listen, to talk to."

_"You want to pay three creds a minute for a normal conversation?"_

"Yeah. Please. I just need someone."

Another brief pause passed before she spoke again. _"Oh, hey, I heard'a' you. Some of the other girls mentioned a 'talker.' Well sure, sugar, I get paid all the same. If you get off from being the talker, go right on ahead."_

Gage took a breath through his nose. "I couldn't sleep tonight. When I finally did, I had this recurring nightmare. It has to do with my job and a major screw-up. Everyone wants me to fix it but I can't. Then I run after these…competitors and I see myself in these mirrors…and then I shoot these other versions of me. But something was different this time. This horrible guy I know was comparing me to him, and this woman I have feelings for was there too but she was…she was affected by my screw-up too."

_"What was the screw-up? What do you do for a living?"_

"I'd rather not say. Let's just say people's lives were ruined. Every day, lives are in my hands."

_"Come on now, sugar. I'm sure it ain't as bad as all that."_

Gage wished that just once that saying could be true. He rested his head on his hands and rubbed his eyes once more. It had been so easy to shed tears in the dream; why could it not be that easy now? "It's not just the dream. People put their faith in me. Everyone at work is going through a real tough time and it's only going to get worse and I have to face it with them. But those competitors are still out there. And there's always more to take their place. Eventually I'll screw up again and how many people will get hurt next time? And even if I don't screw up…" Leon's reflection popped into his mind. "…what if I'm not as honorable a person as I thought I was? What if the dark side of my job finally gets me?"

_"You're going all over the place here, baby. Sounds like you take your job way too serious. What, do you work in quality control or something?"_

"Something like that."

_"So why not quit? Find a new job. You know, I'm just doing this to pay my way through college, ain't gonna be here forever. Maybe you should try a switch."_

"You know how lots of guys define themselves through their jobs? Well I _am_ my job. It's what I do, plain and simple. I can't do anything else."

_"What about that girl you mentioned, the one you have feelings for? What does she think?"_

"I can't do anything about her. I don't know if I ever can as long as I have this job."

_"From where I'm sitting, I'd have to say your job sucks."_

"It's not pleasant, no. But it has to be done."

_"Can you give me anything about it that you like?"_

Gage thought for a moment. "Well…when the job is done right, I know I made a major difference for the best. Not many people can say that. On the other hand, when I screw up…" He sighed. "I need to know what to do, Sarah. How do I fix it? How do I make it all work? How do I go out there and do my job and protect my men when I'm a goddamn wimp who jumps at dreams and doesn't even have his own mind sorted out?"

The line fell silent and Gage wondered if he had scared her off. He found himself comforted when her voice rose again.

_"You're asking an awful lot from a phone sex line. Look, sugar…no one has their mind fully sorted out, no one I ever met anyway. And no one's perfect. I ain't a shrink or nothing, but it sounds like your nightmare's trying to tell you something, maybe lots of things. Maybe you have to make a choice. Maybe you don't, maybe things will work out with the right attention. I don't know."_

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe."

_"Look, I ain't saying this because my job is to get men tight in the pants, but I think you're just rattled right now and need to relax. Things always look worse in the dark. You're paying to talk, so why not talk about some nice things to get your mind off this pesky dream?"_

"I really don't—"

_"I'm putting my foot down. Don't make me be the dominating one; I've played that role plenty of times and customers say I'm damn good."_

A chuckle escaped Gage's muzzle.

_"That's a good start. You have a nice laugh. Sexy voice, too. So talk, sugar. What do you like to do for fun?"_

"I don't have much fun time. See, I'm actually a highly-trained special forces soldier performing covert operations out near Venom."

_"Ahh, a sense of humor at least. Either that or you watch too many movies for fun."_

He grinned. "Yeah, you got me. Listen, I appreciate you trying to cheer me up but I think I better go. I already probably spent half a month's pay on this call."

_"Aww. Well, alright then. I hope things work out for you."_

"Thanks for listening."

_"No problem, sugar. I got paid and you didn't want me to do anything weird. Thanks for calling Bad Kitties. Be sure to ask for Angel next time!"_

Gage cut the connection and leaned back in his chair, his eyes rising above the screen to the infinite expanse of space beyond his window. Fox and the others wouldn't expect him for some time; even his scheduled wake-up call set for six was earlier than theirs. All the better; he'd need a bit more time to set himself straight: take a long shower to loosen his muscles, maybe try to smooth talk his way into the station guards' firing range for some meditative shooting, whatever it took to get his mind clear and focused again before everyone woke up.

He fleetingly thought of visiting Fara to see how she was doing after the previous day's hardships but immediately dismissed it, angry at himself for thinking it. He knew he had to be more careful now, analyzing each action that involved Fara to make sure his professional mind was in charge. Fox had said she was fine. Period. No reason to go see her. No professional reason.

_Two is too many._

Gage found himself speaking the rest of his dreamed words into the silent air. "One is not enough."

With a forced scoff, he shook his head and stood to head for the shower.

Just a dream.

_Just a dream._

_-_

_

* * *

_

_Venom  
0712 hours, local_

-

Dianus propped herself up in her wide canopied bed, the satin sheets suddenly hot and stifling as a death shroud. She blinked rapidly and took deep breaths through her nose. With a mechanical click, light poured into the room and spread across the entire bedchamber as the protective shield that covered the dome-like walls and ceiling retracted. The beautiful luster of the Venomian sands nearly surrounded the large room, the light ever present with a golden glow.

"My apologies, mistress. You asked to be awakened when General Heramus arrived."

Dianus blinked and became aware of one of her guards standing beside the bed, her black combat suit, cloak, and mask making her as a shadow against the brightness behind her. "Of course…yes, of course."

"Are you well, mistress?"

Dianus straightened her shoulders and narrowed her eyes. "Identify."

"Cheryl, mistress."

"Never ask such ridiculous questions, Cheryl. You will know when I'm not well. Lay out appropriate clothing and return to your post."

"Yes, mistress. My apologies."

Dianus' eyes darted around the room as Cheryl retreated to the dressing corner. The usual six guards all stood at motionless attention, spaced evenly in a protective formation to cover every angle. They always stood as such, even at all hours of the night while she slept. The vixen knew that she need not worry of looking weak or absurd in their eyes; their loyalty was assured, their opinions nonexistent, their lives forever at her fingertips. Yet still she felt embarrassed for waking up in such a flustered state, shaken by a simple dream.

More a nightmare than a dream. She resented her lack of control over her nocturnal thoughts given her discipline in controlling herself when awake; she couldn't remember the last time she gave her once-husband James McCloud more than a fleeting thought. Yet he haunted every moment of her sleep that night. Even her true beloved's presence only reminded her of the longing she had suffered since his death. Andross' legacy, while indeed her honored purpose in life, did not keep her warm at night.

Then there was Fox…

Dianus stood, careful to maintain her grace, and walked across the soft violet carpet to her dressing corner. She slipped the shoulder straps of her nightgown off and let the garment fall to her ankles. As Cheryl helped her into the intricate violet dress she had chosen, Dianus became preoccupied with Fox. Again her unconscious mind betrayed her; never in the waking hours did she allow herself to remember Fox as her son, yet in the nightmare she could not see him as anything else, his eyes orbs of blame and sorrow.

Very well then, she thought as she looked at herself in the mirror and adjusted the dress where it needed. Let the sad ghosts of the past reside in the dark corners of her mind where they could do naught but remind her of sadder days. The presence of her enemies in her dream only strengthened her claim that she was nearing the point of their defeat. She took a deep breath and smiled at how wonderful she looked in purple, the interlaced white elbow-length gloves the perfect touch. Already the dream fluttered from her mind, lost against the thoughts of all she had to accomplish that day.

"Has the general been shown to the command room?" Dianus asked.

"Yes, mistress. Ares and Eris of Hellion are with him, however. That was not foreseen."

Dianus' smile broadened. "No matter. I trust they'll remember to watch their tongues this time."

Once satisfied with her appearance, Dianus followed Cheryl from the bedchamber, two door guards falling into pace behind her. The rest of the complex lay before her in much the same design as her own quarters; corridors connected domes of different sizes and purpose, some indefinitely shielded for security but most translucent to allow the embrace of Venom's sands to forever be visible. One such shielded dome occupied the west end of the compound, larger than any other dome save the main hub in the center. Dianus sighed as she passed the security door and entered the dome, leaving the warm light behind.

Four hundred soldiers and guardswomen snapped to attention as the door slid shut and locked behind her. With a slight wave of her hand, they returned to their consoles or errands, manning the three tiers of holoscreens and input stations arranged in a ring pattern from the center outward. In the center stood a gleaming metal dais with her chair perched atop, monitors surrounding it from which she could observe every facet of security and operations. She never liked spending any long amount of time in Central Command; the fluorescent lights lacked personality and the black dome shield blocked out the planet's natural beauty. Luckily, her underlings were well trained and seldom required supervision for everyday tasks.

Dianus strode to her dais where the bloodhound General Heramus stood, both ragged pirates behind him. She ignored the general's bow and sat in her chair, resting her head on her hand and giving them a cold look.

"A pleasure to see you again, ma'am," Heramus said. "It's always an honor, as it once was to be in the presence of Andross."

"Enough, general. If I want boot-licking I can demand it of any peon in this room. Give me your report."

The bloodhound nodded slowly, sweat glistening on his brow. "The former Starwolf pilot was killed, as per your orders. But…Fox McCloud and the Dagger captain got to him first. They broke him out of jail and spent at least five minutes with him before he was executed."

Dianus' brow rose. "I'm sorry?"

"They, uh…they broke him out. Without a trace of their guilt for the police to find."

She smiled and nodded slightly. "Good boy, Fox. Very good. What was the point I made so excruciatingly clear at our last meeting, Ares?"

The tiger stared blankly, surprised by the sudden attention. "Uh…uh…" His sister whispered something in his ear and his eyes lit up. "Oh yeah. Don't underestimate people."

"Correct. Leon was not executed quickly enough, for we assumed McCloud would not break the law. He is rising to meet our challenge. Did he gain any knowledge from Leon before my guard killed him?"

"Impossible to say," Heramus replied. "Given Leon's history, I don't think torture would have worked in such a short time."

Dianus leaned back and turned her head to a monitor at her left. With a few keystrokes of the pad built into her armrest, the screen showed a long-distance probe surveillance of the LDC Vanguard. The massive ship had not budged in days, maintaining its vigil of Venom with irritating stubbornness. Dianus gazed at it for minutes, deep in thought. "You've allowed a disturbing trend of failures lately, general. Admiral Henriksen lived, General Pepper lived, and even a task as simple as silencing that bumbling coward Leon has slipped through your fingers. My husband may have respected you as an officer but your performance has been…inadequate. Explain yourself."

Heramus wiped his brow and opened his mouth to speak a few times before finally finding the words. "The attacks on Corneria City have undoubtedly spooked the public, so our goal was accomplished. Corneria took a firm stance during the war but now the politicians and media are in charge and the LDC is spineless. I've personally seen to the impending success of Project Atlas. It will be operational within the week and then nothing, not even the Vanguard, can stop you."

Dianus slowly nodded. "What of the infiltrator?"

"We don't know. Her neural link has not reactivated since it was jostled and damaged during her 'rescue' from the pirates. Her memory was projected to return within these past couple days but we've received no communication. She might be fully functional and gathering information as we speak, or her memory could have been irreversibly damaged. Our inside man in Toad Development claims that the Dagger captain exhibited strong protective feelings toward her but he was unable to get closer."

The vixen's brow furrowed. "Interesting."

"We can't be certain of her loyalty or whether she's even aware of who she is."

"No matter. Her deployment was but a secondary experiment. She is inconsequential." Dianus cleared the monitor of her enemy's capital ship. "Is your part in Project Atlas complete?"

"Yes, ma'am. Once final preparations are complete, it only awaits your command."

"Then I suppose congratulations are in order. I pray it works. You'd better pray as well."

Heramus offered a nervous half-smile at the binary compliment and warning. "I promise, ma'am."

"Return to the Nyx and await my orders. I will send one of my personal guards as escort."

With a deep bow, the bloodhound left, trying his best to avoid appearing too eager to leave. Once the door closed, Dianus raised her hand and beckoned the guard named Cheryl closer. With the mask and hood close enough for her to smell the fiber, she said, "He hired Leon. Leon was interrogated by McCloud. Heramus may be compromised. We can't allow him to be arrested or discovered. When you're both securely onboard the Nyx, kill him and return the ship to port. Clear?"

"Yes, mistress."

The guard followed him out like a visage of Death stalking its next victim. Alone on the dais with Hellion, Dianus swiveled her chair toward them, amused at their cautious faces. Their last visit was apparently fresh in their minds.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Dianus asked. "We're not scheduled to meet."

"We got your lapdog there to bring us," Eris said. "You said you'd have something for us after whatever the hell you did on Corneria. We want Dagger and we want them now."

Ares smirked. "Too true, sister. We waited long enough. I dream of Birse…I smell his blood in my sleep. Dagger's the biggest trophy in the galaxy. Come on now, Di. He ain't good for your business either. You gotta have some information we can use."

"You rabid morons had Captain Birse in your grasp and you allowed him to escape. Since then, he's been a thorn in my side. I need Dagger out of the way but most importantly I need them delayed until Project Atlas is launched."

"Delay!" Ares repeated. "Y'know, nothing delays a man like dying."

"Right as always, brother!"

"I say next time we cut off one leg at the knee and see how long it takes him to bleed out."

"We already did that twice this year! What about hanging him by his own intestines? Ohh, that sounds like fun!"

"Creative as ever, sister."

Dianus tapped her chin with her forefinger in thought, letting the insane tigers go about their vulgar discussion. A plan formed in her mind, each element taking root as quickly as it entered her mind. When there was a lull in the laughter and coarse language, she interrupted. "You know what I've grown to like about you two? I can come right out and say I want you to be bait and you'd probably jump at the chance."

Ares' eyes widened. "Bait for Dagger? You bet!"

Such good little puppets."Listen well. Captain Birse is a formidable enemy. If you want him defeated, and to suffer in the process, don't strike at his armor. Strike at his heart. It seems he has feelings for an infiltrator I planted in their midst. As fate would have it, I can no longer be certain of that infiltrator's loyalty or functionality. It's come time to eliminate her."

"You want us to do it? How?"

Dianus gestured to the black-clad women around her. "Each of my personal guards has a neural implant that allows me to monitor them. They also act as a kill switch. Each implant is connected to its own handheld transmitter that can kill the unfortunate guard with the push of a button. Though her neural feed was damaged, the kill switch should still work since it's on its own frequency." She grinned. "Would you like to be the ones who kill her? If Birse does indeed have feelings for her, you can throw him from his guard and perhaps gain enough of an upper hand to finish him once and for all."

The twins exchanged looks, their eyes and smiles growing larger as their minds toyed with the idea.

"Oh," Dianus continued, "and I don't mind a little creativity this time, since the objective is a delay. Even you can't screw up pushing a button."

"Oh, don't you worry 'bout that," Ares said, barely containing a giddy laugh. "I got lots'a ideas."

"Me too, brother! I can't wait to—"

"Quiet!" Dianus snapped. "Save the jabbering for your own filthy ilk and pay attention. I'll have the kill switch sent to your ship along with a detailed layout of your orders and objectives. However you choose to go about this, it _must_ coincide with the preparation phase of Project Atlas. You'll be notified when the time is right. If you fail, Dagger will be the least of your concerns. Am I clear?"

Ares gave a mock salute. "You got it. We'll be—"

"Get out of my sight."

As the twins left Central Command, Dianus wondered if dealing with them was worth the benefit of having two vicious attack dogs to use at her whim. Nonetheless, she congratulated herself on her improvised plan. The tigers were useful tools for creating distractions, at least. Part of her desired to see what would become of their confrontation but the impending launch of Project Atlas overshadowed it. She felt an energy around her as if Venom itself was ready give birth to its new generation

She allowed her mind to wander, envisioning the fate of the Vanguard, Admiral McGarret, and finally Fox McCloud. She knew not how much time passed before a hand fell on her shoulder.

"Mistress."

Dianus glanced up, annoyed, at a guard. "Identify."

"Ingrid, mistress."

"Is this important, Ingrid?"

"Yes, mistress. It's returned."

Dianus stood bolt upright and stepped to the edge of her dais. "Bring it up on the main screen!"

The large holoscreen on the first tier glowed to life. Before her unblinking eyes, the visual readout of an orbital probe showed it: an unmarked Arwing, drifting practically motionless as if derelict.

"Scans report the same as last time," Ingrid said, her voice emotionless through her mask. "No recognized signature. Life scans unreliable. Would you like a patrol to—"

"Yes." Dianus had locked her eyes on the Arwing and couldn't look away. "Destroy it."

Somehow she knew that couldn't happen. She continued to watch as the patrol was rerouted, feeling the Arwing stare back at her. All at once, her nightmare returned to her; the overwhelming presence of James McCloud, the glare of their son Fox. She knew that it was impossible for this Arwing to be James. He was long dead and every destroyed Arwing prototype was accounted for. Regardless, this ship appeared and disappeared seemingly at will.

Her eyes didn't leave the screen as the patrol approached the Arwing, forcing it to leave. She didn't bother watching the tactical display layout; she knew what would happen even before Ingrid reported.

"It disappeared from scans, mistress. Patrol reports no visual."

_What are you?_

"Do you believe in ghosts, Ingrid?" Dianus asked, her eyes distant.

"Would you like me to, mistress?"

"No…no. No such thing. We make our own ghosts." She cleared her throat and blinked a few times. "If it shows up again, shoot it on sight. Destroy it. Whatever it takes."

-

* * *

_Unnamed vessel, Macbeth orbit  
1434 hours, adjusted local_

-

_"LDC Vanguard Communications Control to Starfox. Good to have you back in the formation. Scan vitals indicate that your ship has not been named and filed in the Lylat Transportation Commission database. Is this correct?"_

Fox strummed his fingers on the shiny, brand-new armrest of his captain's chair and looked around at the others with him. Falco leaned over a console near the panoramic canopy, much as he had been doing for most of the trip, fascinated by the new equipment – especially the main cannon – in a way Slippy would have been proud of. Gage sat a tier below in the first mate's chair tapping his foot on the floor, his eyes distant. After the Vanguard crewman's question, their eyes fell on him.

"Right," he replied. "Give us a temporary tag number. We'll register with the LTC soon."

_"Roger, Starfox. Admiral McGarret has urgently requested you and Captain Birse as soon as you're settled into formation. Out."_

"Lovely," Falco grumbled. "Well, vacation's over. Hey, when we gonna name the ship anyway?"

Fox hesitated. "I'm waiting for inspiration, I guess. The Great Fox was my father's ship. I want nothing to do with that name anymore."

"That name was always too wimpy anyway. I still say The Reaper."

Fox rolled his eyes. "We're mercenaries, Falco, not villains in a sci-fi movie. Not as bad a suggestion as Gage's, though."

The Dagger captain seemed not to notice the jab immediately and raised his eyebrows as he became aware of the two pilots' eyes on him. "What?"

"You know, you've been kind of distracted since we left the _TDE_ station."

The darker fox waved him off. "It's nothing. Just trying to figure out what the hell Beltino was thinking with that walking Arwing prototype he showed us.

Fox chuckled. "Yeah, probably a good thing that he scrapped that." He and Falco exchanged a glance; doubtful that the odd prototype was the source of such distraction in a usually constant-alert Gage. But he knew from past experience not to push the subject.

The bridge door slid open, allowing Fara in. She entered reluctantly, her eyes briefly meeting Fox's before they both looked away. Tension had hung in the air as heavy as the new-ship smell throughout the entire journey. The two hadn't exchanged any words and barely stayed in the same room together for any amount of time. Fox kept thinking that he should say something, anything, but what could he do except apologize again? The embarrassment over what he had done hadn't diminished since it occurred two days before.

Much to his relief, Robin followed her in, her cheerful demeanor breaking the ice. Fox hadn't been sure what to initially make of ROBin9 the "update" to the ROB64 model. For one thing, her appearance…caught the eye easier. As if crafted only by lonely single male technicians, the white snow-leopardess mimicked a beautiful female body perfectly, complete with a crisp grey skirt and blouse and high heels. Apparently, the success of the "Julie" model used as receptionists in the TDE station prompted Beltino to discover that predominantly male work forces respond better and pay more attention to a female voice or presence. So the ninth iteration of the ROB model underwent a gender switch. Fox wasn't sure about the research, but he did know one thing for sure…she made status reports way more entertaining to sit through.

"Good day, gentlemen!" she said in a cordial yet no-nonsense tone. "Miss Fara was a bit lost trying to find the bridge but all's well now. Hangar subsystems are nominal. For its maiden voyage, the insert name here is doing quite well."

Even Fara couldn't help being amused at the speech mishap.

"You know, I'm kind of used to the ROB model," Fox said. "You sure you can handle a ship like this?"

Robin's heels clacked on the smooth floor as she moved about the front row of holoscreen readouts, her eyes moving at an organically impossible speed to digest the information. "Why, I'm the only model in the galaxy that actually could keep up with the insert name here, Captain McCloud. The ROB model's head would smoke and spark in a way that could evoke a humorous response amongst organic beings."

"How many times have I told you to call me Fox?"

"Eight as of three seconds ago. Would you like me to request a shuttle from the LDC Vanguard, Captain McCloud?"

"Go ahead. We'll wait in the hangar."

As the foursome moved toward the door, Gage clapped Fox on the shoulder and said, "Is it just me, or is she kind of creepy? Maybe I just feel guilty staring at a robot's chest."

Fox grinned. "Beltino warned us she was an early model with a few kinks. Future updates might help."

"Just hope she doesn't go bat-shit and kill you all in your sleep before then. I think Peppy made the right choice staying behind with his family." Gage glanced over his shoulder in time to see Falco pass Robin on his way toward the door. "Ten creds says your pal there tries to come on to her in the next two days."

"What? He can't be that stupid."

As the Dagger captain readied a retort, the avian caught up to them and brushed by with a heavy breath and said, "Wow…you gotta remind me to thank Beltino. Couldn't have picked a better new team member if I tried."

Fox blinked. "You do realize she's a robot, right? She's not even a 'she.'"

Falco gave them a confused look before moving ahead and replied with, "Exactly. Don't have to go through the trouble of buying her dinner first."

An incredulous Fox shook his head and, before Gage could say anything, snapped, "No bet!"

-

* * *

-

"Something's going down," Ley said, her feline eyes alight with anticipation. "The admiral wants to see us in briefing room C-Two."

She and Delaine had met the shuttle in the hangar and, after a brief exchange of greetings, came right to the point. Fox and Falco led the way at a brief pace with Fara lagging behind and the three Dagger operatives bringing up the rear, Ley and Delaine pressing their captain for more information on what had transpired on Corneria. Gage was careful with his words and tone, given the public venue, but brought them up to speed. From what Fox could overhear, he left out choice bits from their scuffle on the TDE station as well as Fara's near-torture; he made a mental note to thank him later.

After a couple elevator rides and more repeating corridors, Fox became aware of a lack of personnel and the ones that did pass by seemed to be in a rush. After watching two ensigns slow down just long enough to salute Gage before hurrying past, he asked, "What's going on? They finally serving something good in the mess hall?"

Ley giggled. "You could say that. It's on the way to the briefing room, poke your head in."

After a few more minutes, the corridor became more congested and a rhythmic reverberation was barely audible. Rounding the corner, Fox whistled at a packed crowd around the open mess hall door. The rhythm became heavier and clearer, unmistakably music. They tried to push their way into the crowd but it was already elbow-to-elbow.

"Can't see anything this way," Fox said. He glanced over his shoulder. "Captain?"

Gage cleared his throat loudly, earning glances from those in the crowd. Those that knew him stumbled out of his way and those that saw the captain's ranks followed.

"Thank you."

They squeezed through the remainder of the crowd until they had a clear view into the mess hall…or what used to be the mess hall. The lights were off, the only illumination shining from three engineering lights used for crawlspace work that had been rigged to the ceiling. Standing on a table in the glow of the makeshift spotlight was Krystal, dressed in cutoffs, a belly shirt, and sparkling silver fur. She worked the mess hall as she would have any million-credit show, strutting from side to side, her voice projected and clear even without the aid of a microphone as she sang one of her songs, one that Gage remembered was one of her favorites.

Gage smiled as the crowd cheered. There was something different about her face. Her enthralled look wasn't pasted on for show; for the first time it seemed genuine.

"McGarret's waiting!" Delaine shouted over the crowd.

As they retreated from the commotion to the silent, nearly empty path to the briefing room, Gage asked, "When did this happen?"

"Just after you left," Ley replied. "She was a little shaky with the natural fur color being exposed but people loved it and she got more comfortable. She hasn't even been that much of a snob, surprisingly enough. This is the third show she's put on for the crew and it was all her idea."

"McGarret's okay with it?"

"Sure. Helps morale a lot. Off-duty guys only; sorry, boss."

Fara spoke, the first words she had said since boarding the Vanguard. "I'm proud of her. I honestly didn't think she'd stick with it."

The music and roar of the crowd diminished to nothing as they approached the briefing room. Admiral McGarret stood alone inside near the podium at the front of the room, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes fixed on the blank vidscreen that took up half the wall. His deep thoughts broken at the sound of the door, he turned and gestured for the newcomers to enter and take seats near the stage. The old wolf seemed more spirited than when they had left him, his shoulders high and firm and his eyes alert.

"Good day," he said when Dagger, Starfox, and Fara had been seated. "I'm sorry I can't be more welcoming but I'm pressed for time. Let me just say good work in Corneria City, Captain Birse and congratulations on the new ship, McCloud and Lombardi. Name it and register it before we have the Transport Commission bothering us in addition to everyone else."

"Yes, sir."

"We've had a few peaceful days here, probably because Dianus was focusing on Corneria City. I hope you grabbed some rest on your trip back because it looks like that respite is about to end. We've gone over the reports you sent us from Corneria and here's what we found."

The screen came to life and showed a picture of a bloodhound in a Venomian officer's uniform, oblivious to the obviously hidden camera that captured him from above and to the left side.

"General Jerome Heramus," McGarret continued. "Former General for Andross, in charge of his special operations sector. Responsible for hiring mercenaries and overseeing covert infiltrations. We believe he was responsible for that impressive work order forgery that allowed the bomb into CASOC HQ and nearly killed General Pepper. He was thought dead near the end of the war but Fortunian spies spotted him two years ago. After we heard that your interrogation of Leon brought forth his name, we checked with every intelligence agency this side of Solar for him and that ship name you gave us, _Nyx_."

The screen blinked and changed pictures to a probe scan of a large cruiser, an old rectangular model that Fox recognized as Venomian.

"This is the _VSF Nyx, _a Venomian star cruiser in Venom's orbit. Its stealth capability is quite remarkable; we needed to retrieve the ship's comm code from the war database to get even the slightest ping on long-range scans. If Heramus is working for Dianus, as Intel is certain he is, this is our best place to search. Most likely Dianus does not know we have this information so I've approved a covert strike to extract Heramus for questioning. We need him ASAP."

The admiral shut the screen down and stepped to the side of the podium. "This second operation is a little more dangerous. No military database in the galaxy has any information on a Project Siren or Atlas. However, we now know for certain that Dianus is up to something and whatever it is, we can't allow it to happen. I don't like it, but I have to send scouts to search out these ruins Leon spoke of when he mentioned Siren. Resonance scans of the area surrounding Andross' old HQ show massive subterranean echoes in a couple mile radius, echoes which were not there during the war. Though the area shows no surface life signs, we're still talking Venom's surface here. We've had nothing but bad luck on the surface since this conflict began."

"I'll go," Fox said immediately. "I'm the only one here with firsthand knowledge of the area around Andross' HQ." Other reasons floated in his head but his wish to confront Dianus was his own.

McGarret seemed surprised at the willingness but did not fight it. "Very well. I'll send—"

"But I want Fara to come with me."

Every eye in the room went to him. The admiral cocked an eyebrow and glanced between the vixen and Fox before asking, "Are you sure? Your reports from Corneria state that trust is an issue."

"If we find anything, her memories might be triggered and help in identifying it. I'm willing to take the risk."

"Very well. You're freelancers, you can take whomever you want. I'll send all relevant coordinates and intelligence to your ship. The suggested route to avoid detection takes you through the ship graveyard of Area Six but the best course of action is up to you. Captain Birse?"

Gage straightened. "Sir?"

"Is your team ready for active duty?"

"Heramus will be on the Vanguard before he can blink, sir."

"Very good." McGarret gave a dismissive wave. "Deploy when ready. Also, be aware that tomorrow half of he Third Marine Battalion stationed here will be rotating home and the Eighty-Seventh will be coming onboard to relieve them. It's a typical changing of the guard but if either of you run into anything major, reinforcements may be delayed or unavailable."

Gage chuckled. "Does Dagger ever have reinforcements available?"

McGarret gathered up his briefing material from the podium and stepped down from the stage toward the door. "Touché, captain. Good luck to all of you. We may finally have Dianus by the throat with this one."

-

**_-Chapter 17 Coming Soon-_**


	22. Siren's Song

[Author's Note: Bit of a long one here. I considered breaking it up into two chapters but I think the scenes are too closely knit. Hope you all like this chapter and where it leads; as always, thanks for reading/reviewing and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 17  
Siren's Song  
_Venomian orbit, Area 6  
1007 Vanguard local time_

_-  
_

_"Here it is. The landmark we created."_

Fox nodded to himself in the cockpit of his Arwing, feeling a mix of pride and melancholy at the sight of the Area 6 ship graveyard. That battle still lived vividly in his mind, the final push to breach Venom and take down Andross. He had never experienced anything like it before in the war; lasers and energy discharges rained on him like all the hail on Fortuna, enemy drones and fighters flew so close he could practically smell their thruster trails, and no matter where he turned or pitched a Venomian frigate seemed to fill his canopy. The battle forced upon him a kind of meditation; he let go, let his instincts take over, let his fingers know when to fire and where to pull the stick. Looking at the vast spread of twisted metal and husks, some as small as fighters and others the size of space stations, he remembered that feeling of total symbiosis with his instincts, focus so clear it was like he wasn't even there. It was one of those rare feelings he could talk about with Gage where they each knew exactly what the other meant. "Combat Zen" the Dagger captain called it.

_"Hell of a time we had here, eh?"_ Falco continued, his comm chatter rough from some mild interference. _"Andross' last line of defense. Man, I wish I could do it all again."_

Fara's voice overlapped his. _"What do you mean a landmark?"_

Fox increased the throttle and checked his scan display to make sure Fara's borrowed SFF-IV Blacklight fighter kept up with him. It was a typical air-to-air quick-maneuver engagement fighter on loan from the Vanguard, nothing special but not too shabby either. Upon glancing over his left shoulder and spotting it, he answered her question. "Out here it's called the Graveyard. Some local mercenary groups use it as a kind of piloting obstacle course, pitting each others' pilots against rivals for money. Sometimes it's used as a duel arena also. Hell, I've even met some Macbethian and Zonessian military pilots who use it to hone their skills. As you can see it's pretty dense in there and dark metal can sneak up on you and take out a wing or stabilizer before you know it. Or you explode against a bigger chunk or have your canopy impaled and suddenly you're a permanent addition to the scenery."

Falco grunted. _"Well, that makes me a little less pissed that I'm the designated INH babysitter."_

Fox chuckled at hearing their in-joke codename for the unnamed Great Fox replacement, created from Robin casually and constantly referring to it as the "insert name here."

_"Oh, well," _the avian continued._ "I still got Robin here to keep me company. You'll keep me warm out here in cold space won't you, babe?"_

_"Internal air temperature reads sixty-eight degrees with one half degree fluctuation. Would you like it increased, Mister Lombardi?"_

Fox sighed. "Falco, can you please stop flirting with the robot?"

_"This is what you get. I haven't had a day of leave for like a month to visit the real deal."_

"Well, stop distracting the thing that keeps the ship in one piece. Go make a pass at the toaster."

_"If the toaster had an ass like that I would."_

_"Sirs, if I may," _Robin interrupted. _"We have reached unsafe territory for craft larger than fighters."_

"Fara and I will go alone from here." Fox rerouted his shields to the port and starboard deflectors and reinforced them with excess twin cannon power. "Keep the frequency open but don't expect a clear signal once we break atmosphere. We'll back in three hours, tops. Alright, Fara…you said you remember knowing how to fly, let's hope it's true. Take the lead."

_"Good luck, guys. Me and Robin'll pass the time."_

Fara boosted ahead, the sleek black metal of the Blacklight shimmering against the backdrop of space and becoming a ghostly silhouette when it came between him and the yellow-ochre Venom. She entered the field of debris without hesitation, the fighter swaying smoothly around the sparse obstacles of the outer rim. Fox followed and relied more on his own skill rather than just following her; not only did he not trust her skills yet but the dynamic of the debris could change from second to second. He let the stick do the work, his eyes and hands merely guides away from his mental input.

_"Looks like it gets dense up ahead," _Fara said, her voice betraying a hint of worry.

"Least they're not shooting at me this time. You're doing fine, just keep your eyes open, predict the paths of the crap to your sides, and don't over-think it. You ever walk through a mall and skirt through a crowd? It's sort of like that…except if you brush someone's shoulder, he kills you."

_"Great. Thanks."_

"Just keeping it light." Fox realized he might have been trying too hard to keep it light; he was all too aware of the fact that he and Fara flew alone. How could he think of anything but the last time they were alone, what he did to her? Who knew if she thought the same thing?

A few tense minutes passed; seconds dragged like hours when every moment was life and death in a pilot's own hands. Fox noticed impressive adaptation in his fellow pilot's flying, the dodges and maneuvers cool and smooth, free of any jerky movements or panicked twitches. Whatever kind of pilot she had been, she received good training. Dianus' guards knew how to fly fighters; the assassin from Corneria City proved that. No matter; he kept his mind focused on the Graveyard and away from speculation.

_"We're nearing the center of the field," _Fara said. _"You guys sure did a number on this fleet."_

"I was close to Andross. I could taste it. I wasn't gonna let a damn fleet stand in my way."

_"Why are we going this way anyway?"_

Fox hit the brakes as a hull fragment brushed by his nose, setting his nerves on end for a moment. With an exhale, he continued on. "The Bolse cannon is covering the entire eastern hemisphere. Dianus has probes everywhere else but here since the debris causes too much random recon data. So, stupidly enough, it's the safest route."

The comm stayed silent a few moments longer, enough for Fox to give half a frigate husk a wide berth and slip between two girders, before Fara spoke again. _"Can I ask you another question?"_

"Shoot."

_"Why did you want me to come?"_

Fox's stomach fluttered. "Because somewhere in your head you might know—"

_"I know all that, I know the official reason. But why do you trust me all of a sudden?"_

He didn't know how to answer; he hoped he wouldn't have to but they still had a ways of flying and dodging to go. ""I…don't really know, I…maybe…"

_"You're trying to be nice after what happened on the TDE station. You think acting all friendly will negate what you did to me."_

Fox swallowed, heat warming his cheeks. "I'm not trying to negate it. But I didn't go through with it and I apologized. There's nothing else I can do."

Silence. The field of ruins lay before him like a dark memory forever suspended in dead space, oblivious to him as he worked his way through it. He looked at the warm glow of the Blacklight's thruster, wondering what its pilot was thinking.

_"I remember someone telling me something a long time ago. I don't know who or when but it's stuck in my head so I must've liked it. A person's character can be identified less from what he does than what he refuses to do. Guess that applies to you, huh?"_

Fox remained silent.

_"It's okay, Fox. If you want forgiveness, you have it. If you just want to forget it, that's fine also."_

"Thanks." He took a long breath; his tensed stomach loosened.

_"You know, I'm actually kind of glad you chose me to come out here alone with you."_

"Why's that?"

_"With no comm and all this danger, I can finally kill you like my mistress desires and no one will know it was me."_

Fox's blood went cold and he gripped the stick tighter. Just as he moved to reroute power back to his twin cannons, his earpiece erupted with laughter.

_"Boo!"_

He could only stare for a few seconds, Fara's laugh in his ear. Finally with a grumble, Fox shook his head and wiped the sudden outbreak of sweat from his brow. "I guess I deserved that. Next time, can you save the jokes until we're out of the damn death trap?"

_"Admit it. You reached for the trigger."_

"Wouldn't you if I said I was going to kill you?"

_"Hey, just following your lead. Keeping it light."_

Fox allowed himself a chuckle, glad that at least she too was trying to get away from the tense mood. "Yeah, well, just keep the—"

Fara yelped.

A sudden flash of light from debris impact burned Fox's eyes. Three large twisted hunks of metal near the Blacklight careened away from their collision, striking other pieces of ruined ship and causing a chain reaction that upset the delicate pattern like a sea thrashed about by a storm. Metal gyrated and spiraled around them, giving them barely enough time to react.

"Shit!" Fox cursed, boosting ahead as a severed wing sliced the space behind him. "Throttle up!" He risked a quick glance down at his position report display. "Ten miles 'til we're clear."

The Blacklight danced before him, passing through the debris like water through stones. _"Throttle up?! But…but I don't know if I can…"_

"You've done great so far, just keep it up. We can't stay—watch out!"

A shard ricocheted off the Blacklight's hull near its thrusters, sending the craft into a clumsy oscillation. Fox's breath caught in his throat as he watched and waited but Fara recovered and regained her flight composure.

_"Okay…it's okay…" _Her voice shook slightly.

"Follow me and keep pace." Fox gritted his teeth as he upped the throttle to pull ahead of her, debris passing too close for comfort. "Don't look at your gauges. Just keep pace and keep me in view."

As he maneuvered through the remainder of the Graveyard, Fox kept one eye on his IFF area scan display, making sure Fara's icon didn't suddenly disappear from behind him or veer off course. She stuck on his tail through the remainder of the tumultuous storm of metal, not a word spoken until the Graveyard thinned and the Venom-side outer rim drifted by them, the danger of the sparse pickings hardly a worry after what they had flown through. Finally, Fox could see through his canopy only stars, space, and the looming face of Venom.

"You alright?" he asked, returning his shields to equal output. "We're clear."

_"Yeah. Yeah, I think so. You?"_

"Just another day at the office. Keep thrusters at max; don't want to stay exposed up here. You take the lead and head for the coordinates McGarret gave us. If anything sparks a memory, anything at all, let me know."

A short jump at cruise speed found them preparing for entry through Venom's thermosphere. The dark storm clouds of the stratosphere welcomed them with the hospitality Fox had grown accustomed to; jarring turbulence and near zero visibility until they burst through and left twin streaks across the sky. Dull sand and rocks stretched in every direction, interrupted every once in a while by a canyon or crater. From his high perch, Fox could see dust storms hundreds of miles out and could practically feel the heat searing his skin.

_"Almost beautiful, isn't it?" _Fara asked rhetorically, dipping her Black light into a dive.

"No. It's a blight. I wish it would get sucked into a black hole."

_"Don't blame the planet for what some people did on it. It's like a troubled child that just hasn't found anyone to care for it properly."_

Fox cocked an eyebrow. He couldn't remember knowing anyone who could stand Venom, let alone defend it. "What, you remember liking Venom?"

_"No…I guess I'm just not afraid of it. It feels like…"_

He waited a moment in silence hen prodded, "Like?"

_"Nothing. Never mind."_

As Fara pulled up and straightened out at five hundred feet, Fox couldn't help but feel that the next natural word would be, "home." He didn't push the subject.

The two fighters skimmed Venom's surface, the Arwing trailing slightly behind. McGarret's coordinates approached fast, indicating a vast mountain range on the horizon, shrouded by sand and haze. As they approached, Fox shuddered at the mountains. He had seen them before, embracing the valley where he and Starfox fought off Starwolf, where he ventured alone into the subterranean fighter launch tube system to confront Andross. Though he now approached from the other side, the stretch of craggy rock and sharp peaks was unmistakable, running for miles and reaching as high as two thousand feet at its tallest points.

"Andross' former HQ is near here," Fox said, his eyes transfixed on the ugly brown range. "Probes showed it to still be empty. This all sounds like a wild goose chase; the HQ blew up hard, any new resonance data could just be underground collapses or caves caused by the explosion."

_"Or the explosion could have uncovered something Andross wanted hidden, something Corneria never found. Something Dianus wanted for herself."_

"Is that a hunch?"

_"Feels like more than a hunch." _When Fara spoke again, her voice lost a bit of its confidence. _"This all looks too familiar. I know I've been here but I can't imagine why. Fox…I really don't want to be here."_

Fox tapped the thrusters and eased up alongside her, reassuring her that he was there. "We both knew you might remember something and we both knew it probably wouldn't be pleasant. We need it, Fara, anything that can help us. Can you hold it together just a little bit longer?

He squinted, trying to see her face through the harsh Venomian light and the tint of her canopy. "Fara?"

_"I don't want to be here, Fox," _she finally responded in a shaky whisper.

"I don't either. But the sooner we take down Dianus, the sooner all this will be over." Fox suddenly thought of the one reason that might steady her. "The sooner you and Gage can take a break together."

_"Yeah…"_

Silence again. Half a minute passed before the Blacklight boosted ahead once more and streaked with a purpose toward the coordinate marker on the mountain range. Hoping the vixen maintained the newfound confidence, Fox followed and began gazing around for any evidence of activity.

Upon reaching the mountains, the two fighters slowed to a hover and yawed left and right, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Fox sighed; a full survey of the mountains could take days with the proper equipment and the coordinates indicated no canyon or access hatch or any other obvious entryway. The mission was simple longshot recon yet he couldn't help feeling disappointed.

_"Fox, over here."_

He sidled the Arwing up beside the Blacklight and stared ahead, faced only with a rough wall of rock a few hundred feet ahead. "What?"

_"I don't know…let me try something."_

Fox frowned as her craft eased forward. "Fara?"

It continued toward the mountain face on a deliberate collision course.

"Fara!"

Just as his eyes widened, expecting the Blacklight to smack against the rock, the nose of the fighter disappeared through it. In a surreal spectacle, the fighter hovered with its rear half sticking out of the seemingly solid wall.

_"Hologram projection. Don't ask how I knew, I don't have an answer. I don't know how I know any of this."_

Fox stared at the false rock, gnawing his lower lip. Should they proceed, or head home and let McGarret make the call? Whatever was in there, he was sure Dianus didn't want people poking around; that meant security, traps, any number of dangers. It also meant that discovering it would be a blow to Dianus and who knew much precious time remained until it was too late to stop Siren and Atlas? All the back-and-forth arguments in his head were background noise compared to the one reason that made up his mind; he wanted to be the one who threw the monkey wrench in Dianus' – Vixy's – war machine.

"Do you know what's in there?" Fox asked.

_"No, but it's all very familiar. I think I can guide us through the security system."_

"Let's do it. Lead on."

His nerves tingling despite the knowledge that he faced a mirage, Fox cruised through the "rock" and faced a dark man-made cavern, large enough for loose flight yet contained such that dog-fighting wouldn't be viable and a high-speed U-turn would be tricky. The cavern continued further into the mountain, artificial lights placed intermittently as guides.

"This sort of makes sense," Fox mused as he followed the vixen, both fighters creeping ahead with every caution. "During the war, Pepper gave me intel that Andross' HQ had a 'back door' used as an escape route. I could go through the eastern hemisphere orbit, take out Bolse, then slip through. I didn't like the intel's reliability though, so I opted for the Area 6 assault. Clean up crews reported that the HQ explosion buried the rear entrance."

_"Ingenious. Dianus rerouted the ruined rear entrance of Andross' base to the subterranean cave system created from the explosion. Andross' former headquarters was the first place the Vanguard looked for her but they had no reason to scan deeper, not until Leon blabbed anyway. Turns out she was under our noses the whole time."_

"Ballsy. Arrogant. Just like Andross. But what did she build in the cave system? What's down there?"

_"Project Siren…" _Fara replied, whispered as if thought aloud.

"Do you know anything about—"

_"Stop!"_

Fox pulled into hover, groaning as his head was jerked about. Three spider-like drones that had been grappled to the stone walls fell from their perches and floated in front of the two fighters, blue-flamed thrusters lighting the darkness with an eerie azure glow. Their mechanical limbs dangled and their single red eyes stared, unthreatening. As Fox opened his mouth to ask Fara about them, his communications display came to life with a dozen lines of garble and indecipherable symbols.

"What the…"

_"Quick, open a broad frequency and send your ship ID signal with the modifier three-three-seven-eight-four-zero."_

Fox followed the instructions and kept his eyes on the arachnid pods. After a moment of processing, the garble disappeared and the drones returned to their stations on the wall, dust misting the air as the metal legs pierced the rock.

"Three dinky drones as security? Seems sort of careless."

_"Follow me and look again."_

Fox kept close to the glow of the Blacklight's thruster and glanced around as they left the spiders behind. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of AA laser cannons built into the mountain, twenty batteries at least, pointing up from below, down from above, at ever side and every angle. They would've ripped through the Arwing before Fox even knew they were there.

_"They were just spotters," _Fara said_. "The ground is also mined in case of tanks or soldiers."_

"Good thing your memory's not shy about chiming in."

_"I don't really remember any of this. It's just familiar. And that code, it was just a reaction." _She hesitated. _"But I feel like we're getting close."_

Within a few minutes, Fox could see light ahead and wondered if they had already passed through the mountain to daylight on the other side. But as the two fighters neared, he could see more spotlights bathing the area in harsh white luminescence. The cavern ended in a cul-de-sac with a steel-framed landing pad and loading platform near the right side. A broad metal door with reinforced inlays had been built into the rock beyond the platform. It glinted in the light, obviously well maintained and strong.

"Safe to land?" Fox asked, his eyes darting around the few shadowy corners of the cave in search of more threats.

_"I think so."_

That would have to be good enough. The Arwing and Blacklight landed side by side, noses pointed the way they came in case a quick escape was needed. Fox hopped to the deck, glad that the cave at least kept the surface heat out, and moved to help Fara only to find that the vixen had already jumped down as well. She took a few meandering steps, eyes roaming the surroundings like a child mesmerized by a big city. Sweat glistened on her fur despite the coolness and her chest rose and fell in short intervals.

"You okay?" Fox approached her and placed a hand on her quivering shoulder.

"No. But I can continue."

He nodded and led the way across the empty loading platform to the hulking metal door. It loomed over them, the most modern piece of technology they had seen so far on the planet, almost comically out of place against the rock. Fox didn't find it the least bit amusing; whatever was behind that door, Dianus saw fit to protect it with a portal that would be more at home as an airlock on a star cruiser.

"I don't think a smart bomb would even put a dent in it," Fox muttered as he surveyed metal monster. "Anything coming to mind?"

Fara shuffled the length of the door and back again, her face a mask of concentration. She turned to walk back toward the left side once more when she hesitated and made her way to the door's smooth meter-wide frame. Her fingers found their way to a hidden switch that popped open a section of the frame at chest level and revealed a control console. A typical keypad was joined with a retinal scanner and blank pad about the size of a man's hand. Three red lights slowly pulsed above the keypad.

"That doesn't look like a doorbell," Fox said. "Damn it…I guess it was stupid to think it'd be that easy. Let's take a few pictures and report back. Maybe once Dagger gets Heramus he can open this thing."

Fox turned to leave and didn't hear footsteps following him. He looked over his shoulder to see Fara approach the console and type in a long series of numbers on the keypad, culminating in one of the red lights turning green. Dumbfounded, he watched as she lowered her eyes to the retinal scanner and let it do its work. Another light turned green. Finally, she placed her hand on the pad and jerked it away with a sharp breath through gritted teeth a moment later, a droplet of blood darkening the fur on her forefinger. The console analyzed the blood sample and the final light turned green.

"How…" Fox began, recovering from his surprise. "How do you have biometric access to something this damn secure?"

Fara only stared back, seeming equally shocked. Fear also exuded from her wide eyes, more and more evidence pointing to a past that she wanted nothing to do with. Fox already knew the answer: she didn't know. Could he still believe that, or was she keeping new revelations a secret?

No time to think on it; a deafening series of clanks and groans reverberated through the door and it rose from the ground up, taking its sweet time. Fox crouched, pistol in-hand, and tried to get a glimpse beyond the doorway but saw only darkness. Only when the door had fully retracted did automatic lights click on in the next room, revealing a storage area about the size of the landing pad. Empty shipping crates had been stacked against the bare metal walls, surrounding a wide rectangle of floor in the center of the room outlined with yellow paint.

"Cargo lift platform," Fara said, pointing to a raised control panel at one corner of the painted section. "Should we go any deeper?"

Fox walked forward and examined the control panel. Simple enough, similar to any industrial elevator. But he felt a sense of foreboding upon approaching it; he knew the fortress-like door wasn't guarding a simple storeroom, but rather what lay at the other end of the lift's route. "We've come this far, let's finish it out. We may never get another chance like this."

Though Fara's face gave away her preference for retreat, she pulled her own pistol from its holster and joined him on the platform.

"Venomian blaster, huh?" Fox commented, stealing a glance at the sidearm.

"I had a lot of time to kill on the Vanguard after you guys rescued me. Tried out every gun they had, this one felt the most natural. Guess that should've been my first clue." She twirled it by the trigger guard a couple times. "SEC-29, special infantry issue. High accuracy and laser distance, though its claim to fame is its nearly nonexistent misfire rate. Maybe it's something in my past, but I don't like the idea of dying because my stupid gun failed on me."

"To each his own." He showed off his own pistol for a moment. "I still say you can't beat Cornerian craftsmanship."

The vixen frowned. "I have a feeling neither will be enough for what's down there."

Fox hit the loading preparation button, prompting waist-high guardrails to rise out of the floor at the yellow outline and enclose the platform. The "Down" button lit up and he pushed it. Both foxes jumped at the harsh buzzing alarm that sounded three quick successions. With a jarring jolt, the platform descended at an angle rather than straight down, the "shaft" no more than another stretch of the loathsome planet's innards, buttressed with steel moorings. Fox walked to the front guardrail and peered over the side; the platform's monorail ran down the steep slope out of view far below. The ample lighting did nothing to alleviate the tension of the slow journey.

"We must be deep inside the mountains," Fara said. "This is the cave system Dianus uncovered after Andross' fall. Whatever's down there, she wants it hidden."

"Just be prepared for anything." Fox frowned. The old feeling crept back into his skin, made it crawl and tingle as if icy fingers prodded him. He felt like he was being swallowed by Venom for a second time, dragged into its depths. "If there's one thing I know for sure it's that if Hell exists, Venom is where it would be buried."

-

* * *

_Venomian orbit_  
_0944 hours Vanguard local time_

_-  
_

_"Longbow, this is Husky Four. VSF Nyx sighted; going dark. Sixty seconds."_

"Copy, Husky Four." Gage pulled his black mask down over his muzzle, the movement mirrored by Ley and Delaine who sat across from him against the port side of the dropship. Each Dagger soldier wore a black lightweight combat suit and vest, standard for stealth and discreet operations. The captain signaled for them to put eyes on him and said, "Weapon check."

Each Dagger soldier slapped an energy mag into his weapon; close quarters silenced bullpup rifles for the two men and a silenced submachine gun for Ley. After practiced checks of the exhaust slides and coolant ports, each gave a thumbs-up.

"HUD and IFF check."

Three hands went to their left ears and flicked the affixed single-ocular HUD frame down over their left eyes. Gage watched his own flicker to life, run its startup protocols, and identify his teammates as friendly with light blue outlines around their bodies. They confirmed their own operational HUDs with another round of thumbs-up.

"Let's do this clean and by the numbers," Gage continued. The gentle hum of the dropship's thrusters faded, replaced by the baritone rumble of repulsor guide jets. "The Nyx is a standard Tanager-class light cruiser; we all know it well. We'll insert through the maintenance hatch beneath the crew quarters and make our way to the bridge. If Heramus isn't there, our next targets are the officers' quarters and mess hall. Once we find him, he must be taken alive. Expect light resistance; crew size of approximately thirty."

"Rules of engagement?" Ley asked.

"Crew expendable."

The dropship jerked to a halt, guide thrusters and engines cut off. _"Connection made with target hull, Longbow. Equalizing pressure with Nyx. Twenty seconds."_

Gage stood and looked up at the ceiling, feeling at home in the Raptor-class dropship. The Raptor was a special forces dropship, equipped with the latest scan stealth, an independent cockpit for binary pressurization, and a round roof hatchway for ship breaching in the vacuum of space. A red light beside the closed hatchway blinked, signaling that pressurization was in progress, as well as neutralization of the Nyx's onboard alarms that would be raised if the hull was breached.

_"Ten seconds."_

The time passed slowly, the Dagger soldiers' breathing slow and nearly in rhythm as they prepared for the mission. Gage allowed himself one final moment to appreciate the excitement of being in the field with teammates again before focusing his mind on business. The red light changed to solid green and the porthole slid open, allowing a retractable ladder to clang to the floor. A glance up revealed a flawless connection with the Nyx maintenance tube, a long ladder-mounted vertical corridor strictly used for planetary work crews in surface conditions.

_"Pressure equalized, alarms neutralized. Good hunting, sir."_

Rifle slung, Gage started up the ladder, passing from the Raptor's thin ladder to the Nyx thick, grimy rungs. A couple minutes' ascension up the cold, dark corridor brought him to the inner hatch, what he knew to be part of the floor in the crew quarters. With a hand signal down to his teammates warning of the breach, he turned the rusty handle and pushed up, trying his best to keep the movement of the heavy metal port cover as quiet as possible.

Silence.

Warm air wafted against his eyes as he scanned the crew quarters hallway, his HUD amplifying the dim light. Not a sound, not a trace of movement.

Gage pulled himself into the dimly lit hallway and stayed on one knee, rifle shouldered and ready in a blink. As Ley and Delaine joined him and closed the hatch behind them, he scanned the closed bedroom doors on both sides of the hallway and muttered, "Looks like the Intel report was right for once; most of the crew should be asleep."

"Bypass?" Delaine whispered back.

"No. Can't risk running into resistance on the way back, not with a prisoner in tow. Put them down for good."

The three soldiers fanned out, silently opening each door and dealing with the sleeping hostiles inside. With the gentle whoosh of the sliding doors and the following whispers of silent gunfire, death spread without a soul aware of the ghosts coming for them. Gage opened his first door, revealing a dark room stocked with the bare essentials of a small desk, a wall locker, and bunk beds. Two Venomian soldiers occupied the bunks, still garbed in their black and brown uniforms, ready for immediate alert with their rifles propped up against the wall. Gage put two in each chest and one in each head and uttered, "Sleep tight" before closing the door and moving on. He took care of three more rooms, one with two soldiers, the next with none, and the last with one.

"Four down," Ley reported after Dagger swept the rooms.

"Five," Delaine followed.

Gage nodded. "Five also. The rest of the ship is running on a nocturnal skeleton crew. Keep tight and cover the angles."

The captain led the way through the Venomian cruiser's tight corridors, wary of the ship's poor condition. Though Andross had always been one for flair, his warships had been manufactured with pure economic efficiency in mind, which meant little to no comforts or quality of life perks on board naval ships. From a tactical perspective, Gage appreciated it; dimmer lights, hard floors to hear enemy footfalls, simpler layout, and usually a pretty demoralized opposition. Dianus had apparently made no improvements in her reign, at least not with the Nyx.

As Dagger ascended a stairwell leading to the bridge deck, odd sounds echoed through the upper corridor. Gage raised his fist to halt the team and listened, brow furrowed. Finally, after the discordant symphony of clanks, ratchets, and curses, he figured that someone was in the midst of a repair further ahead around the corner. He pointed to Ley and signaled for her to go on ahead and silently neutralize the frustrated enemy when he started talking in a gruff voice.

"This fucking shitting bastarding thing can go to hell! This whole goddamn heap should be scrapped."

Gage stopped the leopardess' advance and waited, listening in on the conversation between the angry hostile and someone on the other end of his comm.

"I don't care…I don't care…listen to me, I don't goddamn care, we need new wiring and couplings just to get the thing up to piece-of-shit quality. Where's the XO…? Well, where's the general?"

A long pause. Ley moved closer, silent as the still air, and flattened her back against the wall.

"Seriously? Wilkins told me one of them came aboard with the general but I thought he was just flinging shit around like always…no, don't fucking disturb him, not if he's with one of _them_. Hey, you think any of 'em are sexy under all that shit? If I was in charge, I wouldn't keep 'em under masks and suits, I'd have them in—" Blue light flashed from the corridor along with the sharp crack of sparks. "God _damn _it! Look, just find Wilkins and tell him to check storage again for wiring and H-Twelve couplings. Yeah…yeah, that's what your sister said last night." With a chuckle, the corridor fell silent once more.

Gage gestured for Ley to move in but tapped his throat beforehand, signaling to take him alive. The leopardess nodded and skirted around the corner. At the sound of a choked gasp, the rest of Dagger joined her.

Ley stood with her arm locked around the neck of a greasy lynx in even greasier blue overalls, her other arm pinning his hands. As the dark figures of Gage and Delaine came into view the lynx stopped struggling and stared in wide-eyed fear.

"Huh…Who are you?" he choked out.

"Safety inspectors," Ley replied. "We're cracking down on workers not wearing eye protection."

"Wha—?

Gage stepped closer, face to face with the lynx, his glare boring into him. "Where's Heramus?"

The lynx just blinked and remained silent.

"I'm not a patient man. I'll ask one more time then kill you and find someone more cooperative. Where's Heramus?"

The lynx said nothing but cracked when the masked fox before him raised his gun. "The mess hall! The goddamn mess hall! Come on, man, I'm just a contractor."

"You chose the wrong side to work for."

Gage only had to meet Ley's eyes for the leopardess to know her orders. With a sharp pull, the lynx's neck snapped and his limp body crumpled to the deck beside the malfunctioning energy converter he had futilely tried to repair. They could take no chances; too much rode on the success of the mission.

"It sounded like one of Dianus' guards is with him," Delaine said. "If McCloud's report about their fighting capability is true, it would be wise to strike with surprise and kill her quickly."

Gage nodded. "Change of plans; mess hall is our primary target."

Dagger continued through the ship, avoiding contact on the engineering level and keeping to the shadows when footsteps arose. Activity heightened on the bridge deck and engagement could not be avoided; two more crewmen met their sudden end with precision shots to the head, their bodies dumped in a side store room. Upon reaching the door to the bridge, Gage contemplated breaching and taking over the ship to clear their egress route but decided to pass by; if Heramus or Dianus' guard became suspicious or aware it would make the capture that much more difficult.

Gage glanced at his watch as his team neared the double doors to the mess hall; three minutes and forty-three seconds since they infiltrated the crew quarters. He grimaced and picked up the pace. Someone would stumble upon those bodies eventually and he wanted to be long gone with Heramus before that happened. "Ley, check it."

The leopardess knelt and maneuvered a small, pencil-thick device under the doors. She swept every angle of the room with it, the compact optic feeding video directly into her HUD.

"Six soldiers," she reported, "flanking Heramus and a woman all in black. Four right, two left. Clear firing lines."

"Right. Stack up."

The Dagger soldiers hugged the walls, Ley behind Gage on the right and Delaine to the left. The wolf hovered his finger over the door activation button and waited for the signal. After replacing the energy mag in his rifle, Gage raised his palm in a preparatory gesture, then counted down three seconds with his fingers. When his forefinger disappeared into his clenched fist, Delaine hit the button and the three ghosts burst through.

Red lasers shot over the tables and took down the Venomian soldiers before most had time to react. The last man on the right backpedaled and raised his rifle to fire but a burst from Delaine hit his chest and sent him to the ground as he pulled the trigger, causing a few shots to sear the ceiling and shatter a light fixture in a shower of sparks. Gage blinked away the harsh flash and caught a glimpse of the guard pulling Heramus through the mess hall's rear door. He eased up on the trigger; too close a shot to risk hitting the general.

"Clear left."

"Clear right."

"Fall in," Gage ordered, stepping forward with his sights still on the far door. He stole glances at the bodies to ensure they were down for the count, the familiar, invigorating smell of energy emission and smoke wafting around him. "Target retreated."

They streaked forward and pursued through the rear door, coming to another corridor that ended in a T-junction. Gage knew the left led to the upper deck stairwell and the right led to the hydroponics lab. Approaching the fork, he grimaced as his fear turned true; the gentle sigh of a hydraulic door closing floated from the direction of the lab. Smart move, he conceded. The guard tried to level the playing field. Hydroponics labs were standard on most long-distance crewed ships, used to grow vegetables for food in artificial biological conditions without soil or sunlight. While the gasses used to create the environment proved harmless to people, they did not react well to intense energy heat, causing a poisonous aerosol reaction, sometimes even flammable. Practically every capital ship in the galaxy equipped energy suppressors in hydroponics labs, including the Tanager-class.

No matter, Gage thought, narrowing his eyes at the closed doors. Dagger prepared for every contingency.

"Ballistics," he said. He and his two teammates slung their energy weapons and retrieved compact ballistic pistols from rear-draw holsters. Metallic clicks echoed from the corridor walls as they pulled the slides back and chambered the first ten millimeter bullets. "Stack up."

The door too narrow for dual-entry, the team flattened against one side, Gage in front and Ley bringing up the rear. The captain took a few calming breaths through his nose, keeping focused on the undoubtedly tough adversary who now lay in wait for them. On the third exhale, he hit the button and whipped around into the open door, pistol sights leading the way.

The hydroponics lab lay before them, roughly fifty feet in diameter, silent and bathed in bright light. White reflective paneling absorbed the light, creating a humid heat that Gage immediately felt under his mask. Four long tables stood side by side, each mounted with long shallow nutrient basins and vegetation suspended over them. Cisterns under the lab tables pumped and cycled the nutrient solution while ceiling fans filtered the atmospheric gasses. Gage flicked his hand and his team fanned out, covering the room. As they moved forward together between the tables, Gage squinted past the greenery and spotted a black figure against the rear wall standing next to a wide-eyed bloodhound in a Venomian officer's uniform.

"Forward!" Gage snapped, hurrying to the end of the tables. His peripheral vision spotted Ley and Delaine with him. "Cornerian Army! Drop all weapons and get on your knees!"

Neither moved, save the general's subtle shuffle behind the protection of the guard. The woman herself, garbed in a tight reinforced combat suit, stared straight ahead through the green-tinted eyepieces of her mask. Her cloak fluttered about her ankles in the gentle breeze of the fans and momentarily revealed a thigh holster, still holding its sidearm. Gage recognized it as a Venomian SEC-29 and hoped she'd be smart enough to keep it out of action in the lab.

"You won't use those weapons," the guard said, her voice unwavering and unafraid, muffled and distorted by the mask. Her head twitched ever so slightly to her right. Gage glanced in the direction then looked again, harder, at the neat stack of hydrogen gas containment tanks. They sat beside other tanks of gas involved in the atmospheric creation, though only they sported a large orange flame warning icon. Only then, suddenly aware of the threat, did he notice a nearly inaudible hiss rising above the hum of the fans and cisterns.

"She broke the handle from the cylinder," Delaine reported from his position closest to the tanks. "Guns are useless."

"You're insane," Gage growled through clenched teeth, glaring at the mask's dead eyes. "What if we came in shooting?"

"The explosion would have killed us all. My mission would have been complete."

"Your mission is to kill us?"

Before Dagger could react, the guard spun around in a billow of cloak and drove her palm against Heramus' chest. The bloodhound's jaw dropped and his eyes glassed over. Without a word or so much as a blink, he plummeted to the deck with a loud thud, dead before he hit the floor. The guard's wrist blade dripped red and glowed in the bright light before retracting into its sheath like a viper after its venomous strike. The kill had been clean and precise, through the ribcage and into the heart.

"No," the guard said, "but my mistress will be pleased with your deaths nonetheless. You cannot defeat a Siren of Venom."

Gage cursed under his breath; the general's fate had been decided before they even arrived. His eyes never left the "Siren" as she sauntered a few steps forward and held her ground, challenging them with her stance. This was a fight they didn't need but there was no doubt in Gage's mind that the woman would pursue and attack them if they fell back. With his jaw set, he holstered his pistol and pulled his combat dagger from his chest harness, flipping it over his fingers before gripping the inverted handle. "Let's do our namesake proud."

The traditional team order for "melee only" prompted Delaine and Ley to follow suit and draw their own blades. Shoulders hunched and hands at the ready, they strafed around the guard to surround her. Still the woman remained still but Gage knew better than to underestimate her; he could practically see her muscles tense under her suit, ready to snap and punish anyone daring enough to attack.

Gage dared.

The fox lunged forward and swiped at her neck, finding only air as she ducked and struck him back with an elbow to the gut. Ley thought to attack while her enemy was distracted but the Siren either expected it or saw it; she planted a hand on the ground and flipped into a cartwheel, both feet lashing the leopardess in quick succession as they arced. Delaine's blade, already in mid-swipe, only managed to tear her cloak as she sprung into two consecutive backward handsprings that placed her beside the hydroponics tables. While the three Dagger soldiers recovered, she looked at the rip in her cloak, unclasped the hooded garment from her neck, and placed it carefully on one of the tables. With the mask, Gage found it impossible to tell whether she was angry, irritated, or just amused; her calm body motions betrayed nothing.

She stepped back toward them with a carefree gait and in a blurry blink of an eye, tackled Gage to the ground and pinned him with a knee to his chest and her left hand restraining his knife arm. The captain suspected the next move and grabbed her right wrist with his free hand just as it bore toward his neck. Gritting his teeth and straining against her impressive strength, he held the arm at bay and gasped when the blade extended from its sheath in a flash, the cold, bloody steel millimeters from his fur. With a grunt of annoyance, the Siren rolled off him to avoid his teammates' attacks and engaged them.

Sharp tones of metal-on-metal pierced the air as Gage hopped to his feet; the guard deflected Delaine's attacks with her wrist blade and deft precision. Ley attacked from behind and was met with a low sweep kick that knocked out her heels and sent her to the ground, frustration and anger burning in her eyes. Gage moved forward and swallowed a gasp as the lupine marksman took a slash across the abdomen and went down with a groan. Watching his teammate take the hit didn't slow the fox but rather gave him an extra burst of energy to meet the siren's defense. He dodged a stab from her blade and pushed closer, delivering a slash that finally found flesh. He used the momentum of his move to spin and deliver a straight back-kick to her torso, sending her against the wall with a crash. The woman recovered and somersaulted away but some of her swagger had been bled out of her.

Blood seeping into her combat suit from the laceration in her upper right thigh, the Siren hung back and waited on the defensive. Delaine stood and rejoined the fight despite his own wound, though his left arm remained lowered to protect the vulnerable area. Gage knew he had to try something new, anything to throw the enemy off her guard. He signaled for his teammates to take each flank again but hung back himself, waiting for an opportunity.

Such an opening arrived when Delaine attacked.

The Siren deflected his swipe and kicked him back, her foot taking advantage of the injured abdomen. Just as she finished the move, Gage flipped his dagger up and grasped the middle of the blade. Continuing the single fluid motion, he whipped his hand forward and threw the dagger. It flew straight and true, sniffing out the woman's blood and reaching its talons for the kill…

…and struck with a resounding clang against the far wall, breezing by the Siren's throat when she jerked her head back to avoid it. As she turned to face Ley, her masked eyes met Gage's for a moment and he could swear they mocked him.

His mind raced, trying to think of a plausible course to take down such an unnaturally fast and skilled enemy. The guard descended upon Ley much as she had done to him, but as the leopardess fell to be pinned to the floor, she thrust her arm out and released her fingers.

Time seemed to slow as Gage saw the dagger leave her hand and realized her plan as if they had thought it all through beforehand. The blade shimmered in the light as it arced toward him. He stepped forward to meet it and took in a steadying breath. His fingers caught the dagger by the blade and continued the practiced attack as if it had been there all along. Again he threw and again it streaked true, smelling blood. This time, it took its prey by surprise.

The Siren noticed it but a moment before it embedded under her breast, provoking a flinch and choke. She clumsily crawled off Ley and tried to struggle to her feet, but only made it to her knees, weakened hands futilely trying to pull the dagger from her torso. Gage slowly walked up to her and stood before her, letting the realization of death fall over her like a darkening shadow. When her breathing had nearly died, he gripped the handle and ripped the blade from her chest with a sharp twist. Like a stern period to end the long, difficult fight, he punched her across the face, sending her prone, and uttered, "Bitch."

She remained still in the spreading puddle of blood.

"Del!" Ley sprung to her feet and hurried to the wolf, who hunched low and held his seeping midsection. "How bad?"

"Not bad enough to fuss over," Delaine grumbled. His tone masked humiliation that he had been bested. "I'll be fine until we return home."

Gage retrieved his dagger, sheathed it, and returned to the black corpse. A sense of unsettled foreboding rising in his gut, he knelt and pulled her onto her back. If Dianus had many more of these elite guards, future fights may not turn out so well. He had faced few opponents with such skill and speed; where did Dianus manage to find and recruit these people without leaking her position or drawing attention from Intelligence? The victory suddenly seemed shallow, as if he had defused but one mine out of an entire field around him.

"Prepare to move," the captain ordered. The lab's ventilation system had helped diffuse the hydrogen leak and prevent asphyxiation but he didn't want to hang around such a volatile room any more than was necessary. "We'll hit the officer's quarters on the way out. We may have lost Heramus but maybe we can salvage his files."

Ley finished applying a field dressing of basic absorbent gauze to the peeved sniper's wound and patted his leg to signal she had completed. As she stood and cleaned her own bloody dagger, the leopardess stole a curious glance at the Siren. "Did anything about that seem familiar to anyone else?"

"What, her style?"

"No, more like…" She windmilled her hand in thought. "…I don't know, I can't put my finger on it."

Gage frowned and reenacted the fight in his head, remembering the Siren's every precise move and expert reaction. When nothing came to mind he thought back further, before the outbreak of combat. Like his teammate, he had sensed something. But what? She had only stood there and awaited them with Heramus, then spoke her empty threats with—

"The voice," Gage thought aloud. The Siren's mask had muffled her words and she spoke with low, monotonous contempt, yet something made him feel that he'd heard it before.

Curiosity gnawed at him, made him wrack his brain wondering who from Dagger's past lurked under the mysterious mask. Nothing stopped him from checking for himself. He dropped to one knee beside the corpse and worked the fastenings of the mask from behind her head and neck. Unlike the simple balaclavas worn by Dagger, the Siren's mask consisted of small, segmented hexagonal plates, translucent eyepieces, and clasped straps that kept it disturbingly tight on the head. At last the mask wriggled loose, allowing Gage to wedge his fingers under it and pull it from the sweat-soaked fur.

The face stared at the ceiling with cloudy, dead eyes and caused Gage to choke and fall backwards onto the floor. He blinked again and again, trying to clear what could only be a hallucination from his mind, but it remained. Paralyzed in shock, he finally managed to gasp, "Fucking hell…"

His teammates offered no response. They too stared in dumbfounded surprise at the dead woman before them, the vicious enemy, the face of Dianus' nightmarish secret.

-

* * *

-

The lift platform rumbled deeper and deeper under the merciless surface of Venom, its mechanical groans echoing from the cavern walls and through the stagnant, cold air. Fox had paced from end to end for most of the trip, his eyes wary of hidden defense measures, and kept close watch of Fara. Though the vixen remained silent, he knew how difficult being in such a place had to be when all it provoked were uncertain memories and deep fears. Though she must have wanted desperately to run to the control panel and slam the "Up" button, she only stood near the front guardrail and gazed down with unblinking eyes.

After at least ten minutes of the slow descent, Fara's ears perked and she gestured Fox to her. The two foxes saw that their trip was coming to end; the light at the end of the tunnel proved to be another loading platform like the one above, complete with – much to Fox' chagrin – a matching security door. Though he knew Fara could probably open it, the presence of more and more security made him uneasy.

The platform slowed to a halt at the loading dock, resonant impacts pounding their ears as locking clamps slid into place. The guardrails lowered into the floor and allowed them access to the empty mesh-metal loading area. Fara made a beeline for the hidden access panel and performed the same three tests.

"You know," Fox said, his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on the monstrous door. "This is the most security I've ever seen yet we haven't run across a single soldier. Does that sound odd to you?"

"Not really." The vixen paused a moment to suck on her finger where the machine pricked her for the blood sample. "Why waste manpower where it's not needed? This must mean that whatever's in there is mostly automated. Besides, the fewer people who know a secret, the less chance of a leak."

"It could also mean that Dianus' base of operations isn't far away, close enough for rapid response in case of a breach." With the three tests complete, the door's reinforcements retracted and it lumbered open. "Fortunately, we're not breaching. You've somehow got the key."

While the last security door revealed only a storage room and cargo lift, its deeper counterpart hid a far more impressive vista. Fox let out an awed breath at what used to be a massive cavern, comparable in size to one of Beltino Toad's capital ship hangars. Easily the size of domed stadium – and shaped much like one – the cavern's natural rock had been masked by metal on all sides. A central support column the width of an ancient tree rose from the center of the room to the roof high above. Support beams extended like spider legs from the central point where the column met the roof, bearing the pressure of the surface above. Fox recognized the glowing luster of titanium in the supports, the dull but hardy strength of tungsten carbide and carbon steel in the walls…all military grade and aerospace materials, all meant to protect and sustain the room for a long time. If Fox hadn't traveled there himself, he'd swear he stood before a modern R&D lab back in Corneria rather than a cave under Venom.

When the surprise of the subterranean cavern's size passed, Fox lowered his eyes and took in the ground level. A shiver ran up his spine, either from the even cooler internal air or from what he saw next. Numerous parallel rows of egg-like upright chambers stretched the length of the cavern, hundreds of them, gleaming a metallic sheen. They occupied most of the cavern floor, leaving various apparatus and storage palettes against the walls. The chill in Fox's spine intensified and he swallowed on a dry throat as he imagined the cavern and its chambers as the nest of the galaxy's largest spider. That imagery of Dianus proved no stretch of the imagination.

"Looks clear," Fara said, wiping nervous sweat from her brow.

Fox chastised himself for not even paying attention to a possible ambush. "What the hell is this place? Those pods look like stasis tubes on early long-range freighters."

"I don't know. I'm not remembering anything. There's…it's like…" she shook her head. "I just don't have a good feeling about this place."

"We came this far. Let's find a console and see if we can download any information for Intel. I can tell you one thing." He waved a finger upward. "No orbital bombardment in existence could penetrate this, not even the Vanguard's guns. A bunker buster might burrow deep enough to ding against the dome, but that's it."

The two foxes descended the ramp, pistols ready, and moved along the outer ring of the cavern, searching the various clusters of empty shipping containers and loaders for any kind of access device. Finally, against the wall directly opposite the ramp on the far side, a chair sat in a cubicle of three prefab walls surrounded by multiple monitors. Each monitor showed a different readout; a quick glance made Fox frown in thought. Life signs? Chemical levels? Growth rate? Brain activity? His initial fear became closer to the plausible reality; the pod chambers held people.

Fox punched in some standard command parameters he learned from Slippy and managed to bring up some old data documents. He pulled his datapad from his jacket, plugged it into the main console, and touched the "Download" panel on the screen, followed by the "All Accessible Files" option. As a progress bar slowly filled, he notified Fara. "Should take a few minutes to finish; not everything, but enough files for the tech guys to go over. Don't suppose you know the access passwords to the classified drives."

Fara shook her head. "No. And don't try to detach the drives, they have a self-erase protocol."

"Figures." He pulled up the first downloaded file and perused it while the others finished: mostly a list of building requirements, some meaningless chemical gibberish, things he couldn't tell apart from an alien language. The next few files contained the same type of text until he found one he could actually understand, an outline of proceedings. His eyes scanned the words. "Hey, listen to this. Project Siren. I'll be damned, we actually found it. According to these notes, Project Siren originated as a bioweapon experiment initiated by Andross. The war ended before it could be completed but someone evacuated his research files and some lab equipment. My money's on Dianus. This unmapped cavern, created after the explosion decimated his former base, was developed into the new lab and his research continued under Dianus' watch. Three years ago, the research was…perfected." Fox swallowed on his still-dry throat. "All scientists and personnel with knowledge of the project had been isolated in the lab, then executed upon success. Project Siren's goal is the creation of the perfect assassin and guard, unmatched in combat ability and produced without the time restriction of years of training and testing. They were dubbed Sirens." Fox took a step back from the monitor and furrowed his brow. "Produced?"

"Fox!"

The mercenary looked back to see that Fara had wandered off, her voice dim in the open space. He jogged around a collection of chemical storage containers and found her standing before a long bank of gray metal lockers. They appeared no different from lockers found in a military base for a soldier's uniform and personal effects. Fara had opened a door and held in her hands a black mask with green-tinted eyes. Peering into the locker, Fox saw a black combat suit, boots, gloves, a hooded cloak, and a small rack with a wrist brace on it.

"Dianus' personal guards," Fara breathed, "like the one that attacked us on Corneria."

Fox nodded slowly. "These pods must hold her test subjects, people she's been biologically enhancing. They're just the right size to hold a body. The file I found said the purpose of the project was to produce an army of unmatched killers." He strummed his fingers on his arm and clicked his teeth; something didn't make sense. He spoke the obvious conclusion aloud but it felt hollow. "It still doesn't add up. Every sighting has been of a female. Why women only? Why the melodramatic concealment, like the masks and cloaks? Why—"

"Why does this fit perfectly?" Fara had retrieved a glove from the locker, slipped it on, and tightened the clasps. Sure enough, the fastenings only showed one setting and it fit Fara's arm without question. She stared at the glove and her hand began to tremble. Nearly panicked, she ripped the glove off and threw it to the ground. "I have to see who's in these tubes. Fox, open the goddamn tubes."

Fox blinked and glanced at the nearest row of pods. Though enclosed in metal, the upright pill-shaped chambers showed grooves that suggested the metal could retract into the heavily wired bases on the ground. "I don't know how to—"

"Fox, open them!" The vixen shoved past him and approached a pod. She fiddled with a small holoscreen at chest level wired to the base and brought her fist down on it when it yielded nothing. Fox hadn't noticed at first, but another look at the rows showed that each pod had its own holoscreen, presumably for individual control and vital statistics of its occupant. If Fara had no luck with, he was sure he wouldn't either.

"Look, just calm down," he ordered gently. "Let me go check the main computer again."

Upon returning to the web of monitors, he found that his download had completed. He pocketed the datapad and checked the files still on-screen for a layout of the cavern. A basic overlay detailing noxious gas ventilation routes popped up, with an indicator showing an emergency chamber shielding release lever.

"Where is it?" the vixen demanded from behind him.

"Center support column. Listen, why don't we—" Fox groaned as she ignored him and ran off between two rows of chambers toward the titanic column. His boots gave dull thuds on the grated metal flooring as he pursued, the pods on either side of him keeping the chill in his spine from dissipating.

In addition to being a structural support, the column also held switches and activation consoles for other workings in the cavern, from cleaning drones to fire-extinguishing gas. Fara hurried around the column, searching for the shielding release.

"Is it too much to ask for a self-destruct?" Fox muttered.

"This isn't a stupid action movie," Fara snapped. "Look for the damn switch."

Fox understood the difficulty of her coming this far into a place she feared, but the sudden agitation concerned him. Did she know something she wasn't telling him? Did another memory surface? Her scared yet determined demeanor reminded him of someone who suspected the worst and desperately wanted to either prove or disprove it. He thought it seemed rather clear that Fara was once one of these test subjects but why she wanted to see the people in the pods so badly eluded him.

Fara halted before a red and white striped panel with a breaker lever marked, "Emergency Shield Release." Before Fox could halt her or warn her of possible alarms wired to it, she wrapped both hands around the lever and pulled hard, slamming it into the down position. Sound erupted around them, machinery working and grinding against itself as hundreds of pod shields retracted and lowered around their bases at once. Fox watched the rows around the columns, his chest tight with anticipation as the metal segments withdrew with an almost taunting lethargy.

Fara stepped beside him, their eyes fixed on the same pod. The metal shielding had covered transparent glass, or more likely something far stronger. The cylindrical chamber was filled with blue-tinged liquid, cloudy enough to be noticeable but not enough to hide the person suspended inside, bobbing ever so slightly amidst numerous tubes affixed to its arms, legs, and muzzle. Fox swallowed a wave of nausea and stepped forward, squinting through the hazy liquid.

The realization came slowly to him; he didn't want to believe it at first but the more he looked the less deniable it became. She was naked except for the tubes, her light auburn fur dulled by the liquid. Her tail lulled about her legs. Fox knew that fur color, knew that tail. His eyes slowly rose and his ears lowered a bit in embarrassment at seeing her naked, only because he felt that he was staring at someone he knew. At last, his eyes met her face and all doubt evaporated. A new bout of nausea nearly overtook him as he saw tubes intruding a face he liked, a face he had grown accustomed to as friendly. The off-white ears, the delicate muzzle, the closed eyes which only days before had been open and filled with such brutal honesty and innocence that they resurfaced his own moral foundation from the sea where it had drowned in doubt.

Fara.

"Oh, my God," he breathed. His eyes darted side to side, checking the other tubes. Some stood empty, devoid of both liquid and a body, but most contained another perfect copy of the woman trembling beside him. Trying to make sense of it, he hurried to the holoscreen of the tube before him and touched it, sweeping away screens of useless vital statistic. One thing remained constant: a large, bold header at the top of the screen showed a name with the word, "Subject" in fine print beside it. That holoscreen identified its occupant as, "Subject: Mary." No last name, not even a true first name, just a tag in mockery of a birth name. Again, he checked other pods for consistency and found names beginning with M on either side of Mary. The one haunting word from the Project Siren report came to mind; these "people" were produced, created in the cavern.

"Fox," Fara said in a near whisper, her voice quaking to match her shivering. "What is it? What…" She blinked and tears flowed from her eyes in streams. "What is it?"

"Stay calm, okay? I'm here." Fox retrieved the datapad from his jacket pocket and realized his own hands had begun to shake. With an unsteady finger, he maneuvered a library of files that had been downloaded from the cavern's computer system, trying to find anything that related further to the project. He found a series of status reports and flicked through them, piecing together what he could aloud.

"Andross hired or kidnapped geneticists and organic scientists from all across Lylat. The basis of Project Siren is recreating the process of identical twins on an artificial level. There's a bunch of science shit here, but it looks like an advanced stage of genetic reproduction and organic growth. These, uh…these Sirens are…grown…in these tubes. I don't know how it works; maybe the techs on the Vanguard will. Near as I can figure it's cloning of some kind. These files keep referencing someone they call Siren Prime, an incredibly skilled assassin hired by Andross before the war. He betrayed her, imprisoned her, and based this whole project on trying to replicate her."

"That's what it is then," Fara said. "I'm Siren Prime. Andross and Dianus held me and did all this to me."

"But it says here that she was brainwashed and incorporated into security. She never left." Fox swallowed and tilted his head up to look her in the eye. He didn't have to say what he feared to be the only alternative; she knew it as well. She took off at a sprint down the row of pods, eyes glancing to both sides at the names displayed on the holoscreens. As Fox followed, he realized the names were in alphabetical order; Fara must have caught on as well because she headed down the alphabet. The row ended with Lenore and a left brought them to Kylie; she skipped the next few rows until finding one that began with Greta and turned into it.

When Fox caught up and rounded the corner, he stopped short and sighed deeply through his nose. Fara had collapsed to her knees and stared up at an empty pod, her upper body twitching every few seconds from silent sobs. The tears had intensified and fell from her grieving eyes to the metal floor. Fox approached with gentle steps and looked for himself; between two occupied pods marked with subjects Faith and Fay, he saw the holoscreen readout of the empty one.

Subject: Fara

"I thought it was all a nightmare," she choked. "I drowned in silence in my dreams and I thought it was all just a nightmare."

"Fara…"

"This isn't possible! I have memories! I remember my childhood, my parents. I was just telling Gage, I remember a pink tricycle and the first time I tried a cigarette when I—"

"Threw it up onto your friend's shoes?"

Fara blinked, dumbfounded

Fox held up the datapad and whispered, "It was all in the report. All the Sirens have the same memories. Fake. Implants. Meant to just fill a void to prevent insanity."

Her eyes descended and glassed over from the shock. His stomach twisted from watching her go through such torment, Fox moved to comfort her but realized he had nothing to say, nothing that could possibly make the nightmarish development seem less shattering. Instead, he stepped to the pod's holoscreen and explored what he could, wondering if it could tell him anything more about Fara. After a few minutes of flicking away irrelevant readouts and error messages from the lack of an occupant, he found Fara's individual status and release report. It documented every significant event in her life in a cryptic log format.

"You were one of the first, before the experiment was perfected." Fox didn't like how that sounded and wondered if it would hurt her more to hear her life in such blunt terms. But she didn't object and he felt she had a right to know. "This log records you as released from the chamber just before the outbreak of the war, under orders from Andross. This is odd…it says you were put back into stasis with extensive injuries and your active status revoked due to a failed mission and 'defective' behavior."

"She tortured me," Fara murmured. "Dianus tortured me for being defective."

Fox scrolled past recurring vital reports. "You spent years in this pod until Project Siren was perfected and Dianus…'repaired' your behavior, according to this. You were released again for a field experiment…two weeks before we rescued you from the pirates. After that, the log ends due to an error, something about a malfunctioning neural connection." He realized he should have been suspicious; not only had it been proven that she worked for Dianus, but it also proved that the rescue was staged to get her aboard the Vanguard. But he felt no suspicion. The neural error attested that Dianus' plan had gone awry and none of Fara's actions made any tactical sense in aiding Venom.

"What did I do? What mission did I fail to mark me as defective?"

"It doesn't say." Fox leaned over and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Fara, I have no clue what to tell you. I can't even imagine what you must be feeling. But I know for sure that you're not defective. And if Dianus sees you that way…well, then you must be doing something right."

Fara raised her hand in front of her face and glowered at it with her tear-reddened eyes as if disgusted. "I'm a monster. I'm an unnatural abomination. I'm just a copy of this Siren Prime."

Sudden movement from the corner of Fox' eye drew his attention. His head snapped to the side but the long corridor between the pods lay clear. The tingle in his spine returned when a light, almost nonexistent breeze touched his face, impossible in the stagnant cavern. He suddenly felt the weight of the empty lab, the exposure and brazen bravery – or stupidity – in lingering so long in hostile territory. The emergency shield release had not been quiet, and if he learned one thing from manning the helm of the Great Fox it was that anything with "emergency" in the name set off some kind of alarm somewhere.

"Fara," he muttered. "We should go. I think we woke up security."

The vixen looked up at him, her tormented face contorted in confusion. "You'll still have me with you? How can I go back? Dear God, how can I ever see Gage again?"

Fox's fur stood on end; the sense of another's presence became almost a certainty as more ghosts toyed with his peripheral vision. "I'm sure he won't think any less of you but right now we have to focus on getting back at all. Come on, get up. I need you to pull yourself together until we're safe."

She stood uncertainly and wiped her eyes clear with the backs of her hands, her face a mess of matted fur. As she turned away from her own pod, she halted dead in mid rotation and stared past Fox down the row. The trembling began again and the depth of her breathing intensified, wracking her body in newfound fear. The fear spread to Fox before he even dared turn and look for himself.

She stood clear across the cavern on the far side, watching them. Even from that distance, Fox could tell that she wore a combat suit like the Sirens but hers was a deep crimson color with black inlay. A hooded cloak of the same color draped from her neck and shadowed her face, but it could not obscure the fact that she wore no mask. Though far away, the color of the muzzle that protruded from the hood matched Fara's; another Siren?

"It's her," Fara managed to say past a fear-choked throat. "That's Siren Prime."

As the hostile vixen took her first step toward them, Fox realized why they hadn't encountered any guards. Fara had been nearly correct; manpower would be wasted. Any intruder – one who didn't have a "key" like Fara – would be met by Siren Prime, a killer so effective that she impressed Andross enough to have a project built around replicating her. Now, after her usefulness had run its course, Dianus kept her enclosed in the Project Siren cavern as security like a mother protecting her brood. Fox took the course of action that first came to mind.

"Run!"

Fara didn't need to be told twice. The two foxes bolted the other way, making a beeline for the ramp leading to the thankfully still-open security door. Fox risked a look over his shoulder and saw her running after them and gaining ground. Pulling his pistol free, he threw his hand back and fired as quickly as he could pull the trigger. Only a few shots came close and the vixen dodged them with dizzying speed.

Fara reached the door first and fired her own pistol to cover his approach; her blasts showed more respectable accuracy and managed to slow Siren Prime down by making her take cover behind a pod for a few moments. Once Fox reached the door, they both hurried through and he slammed every button he could find on the access panel to close it behind them. Finally, it lowered at an excruciatingly slow pace.

"Come on, goddammit!" Fox spat. He slapped a fresh energy clip into his pistol and fired under the closing door at any shred of crimson he could see. With only a couple feet of open space left, Siren Prime charged with no fear and dove for the opening, her face a mask of ghastly rage. Fox fell backward as her hand shot under the door and grabbed for him like a predator aching for its prey. At the last moment, the crimson arm disappeared back into the cavern before being crushed by the door.

A burst of blue sparks erupted to his right; Fara put four shots into the access panel and moved to help him up. Panting from the escape, she said, "I don't know if that'll keep her out."

"Hell if I'm gonna wait around and find out."

They rushed to the cargo lift and began their ascent, tense eyes locked on the security door until it had been left far below, unopened. The ponderous grinding echoing off the Venomian natural walls once more, Fox let out a breath and allowed himself to relax. Five minutes into the trip, Fara fell to a sitting position, buried her face in her hands, and quaked once again. Fox imagined the reality behind her origin must have hit her again, hard. Her amnesia had been nothing more than a damaged neural connection to her mental programming, her memories all fantasy. He couldn't help likening it to a faulty robot…and Fara would probably see it the same way. She already saw herself as a monster, produced rather than born, not a "person" in any sense of the word.

Static exploded in Fox's ear, jerking him away from his mental wrestle with Fara's condition. Through the line of white noise and interference in his comm, he could make out fragments of Falco's voice. The Venomian atmosphere already played havoc with comm signals, let alone being underground. As the lift rose further and neared the upper loading dock, the voice became clearer.

_"Fo…frequ…..respond imme…..changing the gua…"_

"Starfox One to INH. Falco, can you hear me? Lock onto my position and use the backup channel."

A minute of more interference and clicks passed. When Falco's voice returned, it still possessed a sketchy, grating quality, but the words were discernable.

_"Fox! 'Bout damn time. Where have you been?"_

"Long story. What's the problem? Were you spotted?"

_"No, Dianus has been frying bigger fish. You have to get up here now; the Husky pilot transporting Dagger contacted me. It's about the new soldiers on the Vanguard."_

Fox remembered Admiral McGarret's warning from the mission briefing that a changing of the guard would be taking place on the ship; half of the Third Marine Battalion would return home and fresh blood from the Eighty-Seventh would take their place. "What about them? Did Dagger need reinforcements?"

Falco scoffed. _"No, the fucking Vanguard needs reinforcements! Dianus manipulated the whole thing; the new soldiers were hers. She's taken over the Vanguard."_

_-_

_**-Chapter 18 coming soon-**  
_


	23. The Sleeping Dragon

[Author's Note: My apologies for the longer than usual break between updates. I won't bore you with any details, suffice it to say I've returned with a little surprise. Drumroll please. A DOUBLE UPDATE! In light of a few past suggestions that my "Soldier's Rise" interludes were jarringly placed, I'm trying a new way to remedy it by posting this next one at the same time as this chapter. So two chapters for the price of one. Don't forget to continue on when you've finished this chapter! Thanks for reading everyone and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 18  
The Sleeping Dragon  
_Unnamed Starfox vessel_  
_1912 hours Vanguard local time_

-

"The good news is it's not as bad as we first thought. The bad news is we're all that's left of the LDC Vanguard battle group."

Fox's words met nine somber faces, each lit by the gentle green glow of the war room's central holo-projector pedestal. The three Dagger soldiers stood together against the wall opposite him, Gage hunched over with one foot resting on a chair and his forearms on his knee. Fara stood to his left, forlorn for her own reasons and seeming to try to blend into the shadows as much as possible. Falco, Bill Grey, and the three other Husky pilots who had been away escorting the Nyx mission sat to the right of the pedestal.

From his position at the control unit, Fox fiddled with the holo-projector for a few moments before finding the right command. Though the unit was just an updated model of the one the Great Fox used, its new features made it less user-friendly for a man who hadn't read the manual. Finally, a holographic image of the Vanguard flickered to life two feet above the pedestal and slowly rotated.

"Firstly," Fox continued, "consider this ship our base of operations for the time being. It doesn't have a name but we call it the INH. Don't ask. Gage and I have been on the comm back and forth with the Lylat Defense Coalition and CASOC for the past five hours. I know it's been hell waiting for updates given the situation so thanks for your patience, but we still don't have a final word from the LDC. That can't stop us from planning ahead, though. We're all still part of the battle group and we have allies in trouble."

Nods around the room.

"Alright, let's get started."

* * *

_Let's get started, sister. Lots of things to do, lots of party favors to put up. Let Dianus' grunts do their thing. We have a party to cater._

_But brother, our guests of honor aren't here! How can we play whack-the-Dagger with no Daggers to whack?_

_A surprise party then, sister. Can't you just imagine their faces when they see all the trouble we went to for them?_

_I bet they'd look so cute. Oh! Oh! You got to pick out the bait last time! It's my turn!_

_Oh, alright. Just make sure they're in the party mood. That means no killing or dismembering, at least not yet. Nothing brings a party's mood down quite like a man spurting blood from his headless neck. It's just not polite!_

* * *

The holographic ship zoomed in to the rear half and various sector blocks, comprising nearly the entire aft quarter of the Vanguard, pulsed red.

"Here's what we know. Dianus had this plan in the works for a long time, probably since the Vanguard first arrived here. Using stolen Cornerian personnel ships from the war, she fooled the Vanguard into letting them on the ship, disguised as the 87th Marine detachment set to rotate with the 3rd in yesterday's changing of the guard."

"How could this have happened?" Ley cut in, stepping forward. "They'd need transmission codes and flight patterns and—"

"Or tactically placed fear." Fox frowned. "She even said it right to our faces. Remember her taunts with the text hacked into our systems? The faked Great Fox explosion? She said that fear would win the day, that fear undermines the strongest army. Well, she was right. The late General Heramus, Andross' old espionage director, had his grubby hands pulling the proper strings. The LDC checked all the orbital military gateway checkpoints. Sure enough, five men didn't show up for work today, three of them civilian. They were all found dead with their families. Personal data logs showed that they were threatened with the deaths of their loved ones, much like Peppy was. Each of them was involved in checking the documents, cargo, and maintenance of the 87th's ships."

Falco scoffed. "So that bitch held their families at gunpoint to get her own soldiers marked as the 87th Marine detachment. Then killed them all anyway."

"There could be more to it, but yes. The real 87th Marine ships were delayed by mechanical problems, probably caused by tampering. They just arrived an hour ago and have taken up a holding pattern with us."

"So we have hostiles onboard," Gage summed up, exasperated. "Let Intel worry over how it happened. Let's cut to the part where we shove their asses back into space."

Fox nodded with a small grin; the man had a way of cutting through the bull. He gestured to the pulsing red quadrant. "Here's the situation. Thanks to Heramus' victims giving the enemy ships the proper clearance and codes, the Vanguard let them right in to the rear hangar. The whole sector was taken by surprise and a firefight ensued. Admiral McGarret sealed the entire aft quarter of the ship after issuing a retreat, so now we have three-fourths of the ship in friendly hands and the rear in enemy hands. That's all we could gather from emergency transmissions. Right after the airlocks were sealed, all communications ceased, probably from a portable jammer Dianus' soldiers brought along. I have Robin constantly on alert for any comm activity and she's been scanning the Vanguard for reverberations. No fighting on either side; a stalemate."

The ship image zoomed back out but retained the red pulse. It hovered in the following silence, earning thoughtful and worried looks from all present.

Delaine spoke up in his subtle, ghostly tone. "Why not depressurize the quadrant and kill the intruders?"

"Hostages, probably," Gage answered. "This is Dianus we're talking about. Nothing's what it looks like and she probably planned for everything. McGarret's got the bridge and manpower but he won't attack if enough friendly lives are at stake."

Fox nodded. "We already considered storming the rear hangar but the enemy's gained control of all aft operation systems, including turrets. We also have another problem."

The holographic image zoomed in again, this time adding a smaller ship near the aft hangar, an old wartime Cornerian cruiser.

"This is the Hellraiser, flagship of Hellion. We don't know why they're here but they're bad news. If their history is any indication, it's safe to assume they have prisoners and aren't afraid to use explosives."

* * *

_Boom! The Hellion special, guaranteed to add spice to any festive gathering. What do you think, soldier boy? You want to hold it? Blink once for yes, twice for no._

_Aw, doesn't look like he wants to, brother. Some people just can't get into the spirit of being a hostage!_

_Very frustrating, sister. I miss civvies; at least they cried and begged more often. Very fun to watch while we passed the time._

_Oh, I think we may still see a soldier blubber today, brother. We still have our last little target, Dianus' poor wayward guard. Can I hit the kill switch now? Pretty please?_

_Patience, sister. We want to be sure Captain Birse knows the gift is from us. That way he'll appreciate it more._

_Do you think we're being far too cruel to him?_

_Yes, sister, I do._

_Lovely! Me too!_

* * *

Gage stared at the cruiser, his steely eyes unblinking. His rage at Ares and Eris boiled beneath the surface, causing his forefinger to rapidly tap his knee, but he focused on the main problem at hand. "If this is supposed to be Project Atlas, it's a little shaky for someone as precise as Dianus. Why don't we assume for a minute that they never intended to fight their way to the bridge and take over the ship? That's a far-fetched plan. Why else could they be here? Grey, you've studied the ship, right? Anything dangerous in the sector they control?"

Bill raised his eyebrows in thought and cocked his head as he looked at the holograph. Finally, he said, "Well, from our technical briefings I remember that most of the thruster capacitors gain their energy from the aft generators. If they destroyed them the Vanguard would be at a standstill. There's also the jump drive, that brand spankin' new one built specially for the Vanguard. It's the only jump drive in the galaxy that can meet the Titan-class hyperspace needs. If they destroy that the Vanguard wouldn't be able to jump home or to anywhere safe."

"There's a new theory," the Dagger captain responded. "The whole incursion could be a suicide strike at the Vanguard's mobility to weaken it for another fleet attack." He clicked his teeth and shook his head. "Still doesn't add up. The Vanguard's guns would still tear up an attack and there's no way in hell two arrogant shits like Ares and Eris would be part of a suicide mission. We're missing something."

"We always are when it comes to Dianus," Fox muttered with a scowl. "Right now, the best we have is—"

"Pardon me, sir, you have a call." Robin's awkwardly happy tone piped in through the room's intercom. "Would you like it in there?"

"Sure, go ahead." Fox stepped away from the projector panel and turned to face the vidscreen on the wall behind him.

A deep brown bear in a red Katinian officer's coat appeared onscreen, his sharp eyes darting to each person in the room. Though he filled out his uniform well, he exuded strength rather than obesity, a respectable aging from his younger days as a common soldier. He cleared his throat and spoke in a firm, grizzled manner.

"Good day. I'm General Holtzer, Katina's military representative in the LDC. Mister McCloud, I believe we spoke earlier. If we can skip formalities, I want to get right to the point."

"Fine with me," Fox replied. "What does the LDC plan to do?"

"After viewing your reports and situational data, the LDC is deeply concerned. Obviously, a very thorough house cleaning must be done to ensure there aren't any more of General Heramus' moles lying in wait. But we can handle that here. As for the Vanguard…that's another matter."

Fox didn't like the way that sounded and a glance around proved he wasn't alone.

"We've gone over the Vanguard schematics," the general continued, "to assess a threat level. It turns out the ship's size is working against us. Because it's so big, it has multiple energy grids and failsafes in case one section or another is destroyed or loses power. Naturally, weapon and life support systems need to be kept functional even if certain sectors are compromised. While the bridge has total oversight over all systems, there are two other stations in the ship that offer control: one in the center, the other near your uninvited guests. Only about a hundred feet past one of the sealed doors, to be exact."

"What can the enemy do with it, sir?" Gage asked.

"If they brought a skilled – and I mean skilled - technician with them, they could be able to gain control of the aft orbital bombardment cannons. And if they isolate their power grid, there's no way the bridge can retake control."

Fox had a feeling he already knew the answer to his next question. "Are there any friendly targets in range?"

General Holtzer sighed through his nose. "Yes, numerous Macbethian cities. Civilian lives numbering millions. For once, the LDC is in total agreement about something: the enemy cannot gain control of the Vanguard's weaponry. Period."

* * *

_What if they don't come, brother?_

_They will, sister. Us and Dagger…we're locked together by fate. They're our natural enemies. We're their natural enemies. It goes round and round till one side falls._

_Ohh, this is great, brother. This could be it!_

_Maybe, sister. But Gage is just the kind of enemy we always looked for. Like, uh…yeah! Ya know, like one of those cartoons! You can shoot him, stab him, beat him to a pulp, do anything to his mind or body, and he'll still get up and come after you as fierce as ever, good as new._

_A perfect project! I think that'll all change after today, though._

_He he…I think you're right, sister._

* * *

Fox shook his head slowly. "But what can we do? The comms are out, we can't warn Admiral McGarret. And Dianus' men have the aft hangar guarded tight and the central hangar covered by turrets."

"The LDC has no official orders to give you yet. We realize you have a bare bones force. But just speaking for myself…I pray you find a way to take the Vanguard back, and soon. I meant what I said; the LDC will _not _allow those weapons in enemy hands. If they breach those doors and fight their way to the control station, the status of the Vanguard will change from an allied vessel to an enemy threat." He paused. "Macbethian missile stations have been put on alert already. I trust I don't need to explain that the loss of the Vanguard and her crew would be a tragedy, but the lesser of two tragedies. We can't take the risk."

A heavy stillness fell over the war room, the gentle hum of the holo-projector seeming as loud as a thrust engine. Each person present stared unblinking at the Vanguard model as if seeing it for the first time in a different light; not as a fortress or indestructible symbol of Lylat's post-war might and unity, but rather as a home and ship whose existence lay every bit as precarious as any weaker vessel. It had been impossible to imagine the Vanguard in any kind danger only mere weeks before; its newfound helplessness seemed almost surreal.

"This could have been Dianus' plan all along," Falco suggested, "to force the LDC to destroy their own ship and do her job for her. Smells like her kind of plan."

"I don't need to tell you the effect that would have on Lylat and our military presence protecting Macbeth," Holtzer replied with a grim frown. "I've said all I can. For the time being, you're our best bet for taking the Vanguard back. In that room, I see the heroes of the Lylat War, Katina's best flight squadron, and perhaps the most skilled unit of land warriors in the galaxy. Along with the two dropships of 3rd Marine battalion soldiers which I'll officially put under your command, I think you have a fighting chance. Can you get the job done?"

"Yes, sir," Gage said without hesitation. No dissenting voices followed. "We'll do whatever it takes."

"Very good." A hint of a smile pulled at the side of the bear's grizzled muzzle. "You know, I'm a good friend of Admiral McGarret's. We fought together quite a few times in the war. He's an old fashioned warrior, always put his men first and his hardware second. When the LDC started raving and bragging about the unequaled power of the Vanguard, I remember him telling me, 'This big beast is just like any other tub in the Navy. For all its guns and shields and technology, it's all just words and bullshit without a good, proud crew. I'd rather be with the best crew on the Navy's worst ship than a bad crew on its best ship.' I took that seriously when I helped the LDC handpick the crew, including all of you. For McGarret's sake and the sake of our men over there, I hope we made the right choices. Good luck, people."

-

* * *

-

The metal wall locker door clicked open, the sound amplified and carried by the utter stillness surrounding it. It filled the small crew quarters room and echoed into the dead corridor, finally ceasing without alerting any wary ears. The wall locker door slowly opened further, urged on by a tentative hand. Two bright eyes peered out from the darkness and a silver head emerged.

Krystal kept the door open just wide enough for her head to poke out and scan the room. Her eyes came to rest on a dead soldier by her bed, his avian head askew and his empty eyes gaping in a final expression of pained shock. Swallowing nausea, the silver diva considered crawling over to see if he was still alive but the blood on his chest and frozen mask of pain spelled it out for her… not to mention the fact that she had been hiding five feet away for six hours without him moving. She still felt she should do something, though she didn't know what; after all, the avian had grabbed her and protected her when all the shooting and noise first started. He had told her to run and hide and shot back at the attackers. From her dark hiding place, sobbing quietly in fear, she remembered finally hearing the door to her room open. She thought the avian had come back for her but a loud shot and yelp of pain nearly made her gasp and give away her position. She heard a body hit the ground, then nothing after that. No help, no friendly words. Nothing.

She shuddered at the memory; she had known it had to be her avian savior who died but she had still clung to hope. The six hours following the shootout proved the most nerve-wracking of her life, filled with sporadic gunfire muffled by the walls, shouts and commands, then finally deathly silence. Crammed in the wall locker, her legs ached and her back stiffened but she dare not move, not even to breathe heavier than normal. Every now and then she had heard boots in the corridor outside her room thumping by, and somehow she knew they weren't friendly.

Now, after nearly forty minutes of silence, Krystal inched her way from the wall locker and tentatively stood, her joints and spine moaning in anguish. She felt horribly exposed but she knew that if she spent one more minute in that metal coffin waiting to see whether someone would come along to kill her or not, she'd go crazy. Part of her wondered whether it would be smart to just walk out with her hands up and surrender rather than risk being seen and shot.

_Yeah, girl. Surrender to them. I'm sure they won't do anything rough to you._

"What else is there?" she squeaked into the open air in response to herself, her voice choked with fear and tears. She couldn't believe this had happened. She swore that if she lived to see home, she'd never go outside again.

_Where's Gage? Where's Fox? Where's all the guys?_

_What if they don't know I'm here?_

_What if I'm all alone around here?_

_What if I'm the last good guy on the ship?!_

Krystal trembled, aggravating her tight muscles, and hugged herself around the torso. Panic overtook her and her fur erupted in cold sweat. She forced her legs to carry her to the doorway and tried to remember how to get to the bridge from her room. She didn't know. She didn't care. She just had to run. Had to get out. _Now!_

Her breath caught in her throat and she froze. She thought she heard something beyond the closed door, but was it her imagination? No…footsteps carrying a lazy cadence on the sleek floor made their way closer from her right. Krystal remembered to breathe again, albeit in short rasps, and she backpedaled. Afraid that closing the wall locker door would make too loud a sound, she scrambled around the room, head and limbs spinning each way as she desperately looked for a place to hide. Finally, she fell to her knees beside the bed and threw the blanket over herself. Shrouded once more in darkness, she tried to stop shaking and waited, the heavy boots growing nearer.

Thud…thud…thud…

**Thud…Thud…Thud…**

Thud…thud…thud…

The footfalls passed the room without so much as slowing and continued to the left. When the last dull sound evaporated to nothing, Krystal tossed the blanket aside and knelt still, her mind totally lost. What could she do? She couldn't run, couldn't hide forever.

Her eyes fell upon the small vid-comm unit on the bed's end table and she all but jumped over the bed to get to it. Of course! Just call for help. Just…

"Damn it!" she shouted in a whisper. The screen flashed on but the words "No Service" blinked over and over in the middle.

_All alone…_

As she clicked the screen off, an idea came to mind. Maybe she still could contact someone! Wiping her eyes clear of frustrated tears, Krystal fell to her knees again and snaked her arm under her bed. Once she felt the rough material of the travel bag the military had loaned her, she pulled it out, quickly at first then slower to keep the sliding noise down. She unfastened it and rummaged around under her clothes, searching for one object.

She remembered Gage grousing about it, searching for the HUD he lost during some attack on the Vanguard before she had even arrived. She recalled him groaning about having to use a wrist map display until his teammates arrived with replacement gear. Krystal had helped him look for it before that horrible mission…that mission that landed him a captive of Hellion.

Like a cruel tease, she had found it completely by accident not long after Gage's capture. She had taken to exploring the less-traveled regions of the ship mostly to avoid fawning fans and gawking young men when something caught the light just right. Wedged between a clump of cables and air flow gaps in the metal plating where the corridor floor and wall met, not far from a damaged and blown out airlock, sat a thin, clear earpiece and ocular. She had never seen one like it before.

She decided to keep it. Why not? Ley and Delaine brought replacements and it would make a great souvenir of her adventures on the ship. No one ever had to know she found it.

Her finger brushed the smooth HUD and she pulled it from the bag. Like a child with a grown-up's trinket, Krystal turned it over and over in her hands and tried to figure out just how the hell to work it. Some parts seemed similar to civilian travel comm products: earpiece…small buttons…little flashy thing. Just a million more options and little things to press.

Slowly, careful not to break it, she slipped it over her ear and affixed the comm node into position. She had no clue how it worked…ear bone vibrations or something…but it felt right the way she positioned it. With the ocular lowered over her left eye, she started hitting random buttons along the HUD's frame, not daring to use voice command for fear of alerting anyone passing by.

The ocular flickered to life and nonsense flooded her vision. Numbers, technical text – _what the hell is IFF? – _different view modes, everything except what she needed. When her vision flashed white, she winced in surprise, yelped, and smacked a hand over her muzzle. She sat stone-still but no footsteps came running. No one heard. Carefully, she turned off the light-amplification view and continued fiddling.

Finally, as she figured she was running out of options, a small jumble of letters and numbers appeared in the lower corner with "ComFreq" beside them. Frequency? Maybe…it had "com" in it so it had to have something to do with communications, she figured.

"Hello?" She spoke as loud as she could while still maintaining a whisper. "Can anyone hear me? I'm on the LDC Vanguard and I need help. Hello?"

Nothing. A quick scroll of the different channels showed quite a few, but what other choice did she have? Huddled and trembling, praying for some kind of response before someone stumbled upon her, she moved to the next channel and tried again.

"Hello? Hello? Is anyone there? Someone…please help."

-

* * *

_2021 hours, Vanguard local time_

-

Gage rubbed his eyes, sighed, and rested his elbows on the waist-high map projector table. "Let's go over it again. There has to be something we're missing, some other way through."

Ley nodded and tapped her fingers on the table's keyboard. The Vanguard's blueprints appeared in segments on the table's top-down screen while the integrated projector displayed the schematics in three-dimensional holographic form above it at eye level. The past half-hour seemed to all blur together to Gage: inscrutable technical layouts, construction that defied infiltration, and one dead end idea after another. He felt certain that once Dagger retreated to the Logistics room to put their heads together alone they could come up with something in a hurry but the Vanguard plans yielded nothing. A fortress in every sense.

Ley and Delaine seemed equally tired and frustrated, yet determined to find a way. The wolf marksman, though he kept a stone demeanor, spent much time subtly hunched over to ease the stress on his abdomen wound gained from the Siren's blade. It didn't seem to bother him much, but Gage took notice mostly because it reminded him of seeing the Siren's dead face…Fara's face. It had been hours since the team shed their combat garb to their black tank tops and cargo pants, yet he could still feel the wrenching of his gut at the end of the Nyx mission.

"Okay, one step at a time," the fox continued, refocusing on the crisis at hand. "We can't contact our guys on the ship so we're alone until we're onboard. We can't get close enough to either hangar without getting ripped apart by the turrets. We only have five fighters, and skilled as they are, they wouldn't be able to destroy enough turrets without taking casualties themselves and without them the transports have no cover. The only good news is that our last scans of the Vanguard showed the shields to be down, which means the bridge still controls them. McGarret's smart leaving them down; he knows we're out here and that we want to get on."

Ley bit her lower lip in thought. "Plenty of access airlocks to dock with, but they're all within enemy turret range. Even if we destroyed enough guns, we'd have to take the time to cut or blast through the inner airlock doors if the enemy locked them down…which they did if they have half a brain. Plenty of time for them to prepare defenses or send the Hellraiser to blow the transports away."

"Dianus used fear to get aboard," Delaine mused, flicking a finger toward the rear hangar of the Vanguard model. "Maybe we can turn that against them. If we send a detachment to attack the Hellraiser, those rabid vermin may redirect the turrets and give us an opening to get to the center hangar."

Gage shook his head. "Much as I'd love to see that ship get nailed, I'd bet Ares and Eris aren't in charge down there. Dianus wouldn't put nutjobs like them in command. She probably has her own people overseeing everything." He grimaced. "A Siren or two maybe."

"In that case, seeing as the twins are just targets of opportunity, we could bypass—"

"No!" Gage snapped with a bit more force than he intended, earning surprised looks from his teammates. He cleared his throat. "The twins are primary targets."

Delaine glanced at Ley then back to his captain and said, "Sir…the control station—"

"Yes, the control station is our objective. But once it's secured we immediately move to neutralize Ares and Eris before they can retreat. They can _not _get away from us again. That's more future blood on our hands if we let them escape."

The two Dagger soldiers had no chance to respond before a knock at the metal door resounded through the room, followed by a hydraulic swish. Fara stood uncertainly in the doorway, not making a move to enter or speak. Though she glanced at the other two Dagger soldiers her eyes were drawn to Gage, beckoning without words.

"Give me a few minutes, guys, okay?" the captain said, more an order than a request.

Ley and Delaine needed no further explanation; they looked at each other and left, sliding by Fara on their way out. The vixen stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.

Silence.

Gage turned his back to her and rested his hands on the map table, his face awash in the projected Vanguard's blue glow. He didn't know whether she expected him to speak first or not but he didn't know what to say in either case. Ever since the Nyx mission, he had felt conflicted over how he felt about her and knew that he had to see her face to face if he ever wanted to know if his feelings had changed. Maybe that's why he had avoided her since returning.

"Gage," Fara began with a couple reluctant steps forward. "I'm sorry. I know you're busy with the Vanguard but I had to see you. I couldn't wait anymore. I wanted to talk to you hours ago when I got back but…well, all this happened."

He said nothing; his eyes remained glued to the holo-projection.

"The Husky pilots told me about the Nyx. I know you saw one of the Sirens. And I know Fox told you about what we saw on Venom. I know it must've been a shock for you, but…imagine how I felt when I saw it. All the pods…my own pod where I was…born." She swallowed and corrected herself. "Grown. But I have to tell you something else."

He kept his back to her.

"After I saw that whole nightmare, a lot of things went through my mind, a lot of horrible things. Fox tried to comfort me, but the whole time I just wished you were there too. I always feel safe with you. But of all the things going through my mind, I kept dwelling on one fear. I feared that I would be alone again, that you'd see me differently because of this. I feared that the way you felt about me would be erased." Fara hesitated and absently fiddled with her fingers. "I was afraid of that because I realized that…well, I don't know how normal people define it but…I think I love you. And I have to know…what did you feel when you saw my face on that Siren? Has anything changed?"

_What did I feel?_

Fara waited, fidgeting, breath shallow with nervousness. Finally, she strode forward, hand outstretched for him, and pleaded, "Gage, please, say something. Tell me if—"

To her shock, Gage spun around, grabbed her by the shoulders, and pulled her into a fierce kiss. She clutched him back and closed her eyes, the tears she had been repressing in anticipation of rejection flowing free in relief rather than despair. The kiss held the same fiery heat as their first in the TDE station cell, now elevated, free of the inhibitions.

When Gage finally parted his muzzle, he kept her close and ran his fingers down the back of her head. "What did I feel? When I saw that dead face, for the split second I thought it was you, I wished that she had killed me instead. Nothing's changed, Fara. I never felt this way about anyone before. I don't know what normal people call it either or whether it really is, but…yeah, what the hell, let's call it love." He grinned, happy to see the smile reflected.

It didn't last long; her comforted expression fell and she leaned her forehead forward onto his chest. "Oh God, Gage, listen to us. Listen to _me. _How can I trust any feeling I have? I'm not even a person…I'm just a hunk of meat with a false life."

"Don't say that. Fara, I saw one of these Sirens. I heard her talk, saw her fight. You are _not _one of them. Dianus may have tried to make you like them but you're not. You chose differently. If you ask me, that makes you more of a real person than that bitch."

The vixen hugged him tighter and said almost in surprise, "You really see me that way, don't you?"

"Of course. I've liked what I've seen ever since our first date in Fairington. That was the best date I ever had, even with the assassin trying to kill me."

Fara laughed and shook her head. "Well, I can honestly say it's my favorite memory also. You know, you still owe me a second date. Don't think I forgot."

"Don't worry, I'm good for it." Gage met her eyes. "It's not every day two people meet who fully understand each other, even rarer for people like us. I think we got something good here."

Fara stood tall and gave him another quick kiss. "Me too."

"I gotta get back to work here, but meet me in the galley later and we'll have coffee or something."

"Okay. I'll see if Fox needs help or anything. And hey, I want to help any way I can with retaking the Vanguard so don't be afraid to include me. I mean it."

Gage nodded. "Don't worry. Something tells me we'll need every gun hand we can get."

Fara headed to the door and flashed a final grin over her shoulder. "See you later. And thanks."

As she left the room, her scent flittering away from Gage's nose, Ley and Delaine reentered. The leopardess watched until the vixen disappeared from the doorway then smirked back at her captain.

"Stow it, sergeant," Gage snapped before Ley could tease. "We have work to do."

"You got it, boss." Her expression turned serious and she looked at Delaine before returning her attention to the fox. "Sir, about Hellion…you don't have to say another word about it. We were all at Artemis Thirteen. We know what they did to you in Redgrove, and what they'll do to a thousand others if they're not stopped."

Gage nodded. "We have to be prepared; God knows they'll be. We can expect an impossible trap."

"Like you say, sir," Delaine replied, "there's no such thing as an impossible mission. We'll be with you all the way."

"I never doubted it." The Dagger captain turned back to the holo-projector. "Let's focus. The clock's ticking."

-

**_-Chapter 19 Coming Soon-  
_**(Continue on to second part of update)


	24. A Soldier's Rise: 5

[Author's Note: This will be the last (possibly second to last) interlude so I hope this mini-series goes out with a bang for you. If for some reason you're seeing this and haven't seen Chapter 18, be aware that this is the second part of a two-part update, so click back and read Chapter 18 first. Also decided to break my own rule and use a quote because I found it very fitting, hope you all like it. Thanks for reading everyone and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

-

**A Soldier's Rise**

**  
**The Team

-

* * *

Great occasions do not make heroes or cowards; they simply unveil them to the eyes of men. Silently and imperceptibly, as we wake or sleep, we grow strong or weak; and at last some crisis shows us what we have become.

-Brooke Foss Westcott

* * *

-

CASOC Affiliation Record / ID: 2243-54-65VD

Name: Ley, Erica

Rank: Sergeant

Callsign: Starlet

Spc: Leopard, yellow

Age: 28

_See medical report for full vital layout_

_-  
_

**Service Log_, _Abridged**_  
_

-Cornerian Army Reserve, recruited-

-Completed Basic Training, rifleman qualified-

-Promoted to Private First Class, 33rd Light Infantry Reserve, Third Platoon, Echo Squad-

-Assigned to defense of Corneria City-

-Awarded Star of Merit for heroism during invasion of Corneria City (see situation debrief file for award condition details)-

-

* * *

_Fifteen months before The Lylat War_

-

Erica stood with her hands on her knees and arched her back, allowing her breasts to push forth against the strict confines of her pink tube top. Tight black short-shorts hugged her hips as they swayed and matched the rhythm of her tail. She tilted her head, offered a sultry grin, and spoke in a throaty whisper. "All alone on such a warm, pleasant day? These days are meant to be shared." She flashed her pleading lashes. "I'm new around here also, Dirk. I won't judge you, you don't judge me. We'll just bathe in each others' passion."

Beth scratched under her ear and shrugged, ruffling the bunch of creased paper in her hand. The gray coyote sat cross-legged in a faded, taped beanbag chair that her friend had dubbed the "house seats" during impromptu rehearsals. "I dunno, I think you make a great whore. I'd do you in a second."

The leopardess rolled her eyes and snatched the script from her roommate's hand. "Will you be serious? This was my one chance at a real movie and that damn hack of a director practically hurled when he saw my audition."

"Oh, come on. It wasn't your one chance, it was just another audition. And with dialog like that, maybe it's a good thing you didn't get in."

"But it's a movie! It would'a been the start of my whole life! I thought I was so close with this one, even closer than that soap opera."

"Didn't you try for a whore in that one too?"

With a frustrated gruff, Erica threw the script for _Heart of a Soldier _onto her unkempt bed where it came to rest beside a ratty white teddy bear. She pulled off the tube top and writhed out of the black shorts before settling on far more comfortable attire; a purple T-shirt and jeans. "Work on form…work on delivery…not convincing enough…put my foot up his fat ass, see if that's convincing enough for him. Oh, and see these?" She placed her hands under her breasts and lifted. "_These_ ain't padded! You should'a seen half the girls there, more tissues in their bras than in the damn bathrooms."

Beth sighed and moved to her own bed beside Erica's, no more than a few steps across the small studio apartment. She stretched out on the striped comforter and gazed up at the ceiling where a poster of a lupine pop star gazed back. "You do this every time, y'know. You act like every rejection is the end of the world. You've been doing great at community theater like since we met in middle school and you always liked it. Why all this obsession over movies and vidscreen all of a sudden?"

"It's not an obsession. I just want more than _this._" The leopardess swept her arm at the apartment. It hadn't turned out to be the great bastion of freedom she had hoped when she spread her wings and left home after high school. Threadbare brown carpet covered the floor of the entire apartment, which itself seemed even smaller than the community theater stage on which she performed. Old posters and stock pictures hung on the walls more to cover holes and stains than to add to any décor. Heat and air conditioning acted unpredictable at best, power had a mind of its own, and travelling home proved an unnerving experience for a young woman in that part of the city. Hardly the life she planned for herself.

"We both do," Beth replied gently. She patted the stack of thick text books that nearly snapped the legs of her endtable. "We both made the pact; we both said this was all just temporary until we made the money to move on. I'm gonna get my paralegal certification next year and you're gonna get into showbiz. That was the plan. But you have to stop getting all down when you don't hit the big times right off the bat. Just work theaters and try for soaps or bit parts. You'll get your big break eventually."

"And what if I don't?" Erica retrieved the script and shook the wrinkled pages. "You know what _Heart of a Soldier's_ about? Some injured army guy who goes to war and falls in love with a prostitute, a woman who moved around a lot and kept getting kicked in the teeth whenever she was just about to move up. What if that's me? Who says that just because I want something and work for it, it'll happen? Life's not a cartoon." With a despondent breath, she walked to the large grimy window that opened to the city far below. The city looked different than it had a few months ago; whereas it had once been a destination of opportunity and endless possibility with adventure around every skyscraper, she now only saw the forlorn alley below, the shameful path she had to walk after each failure. "What if there's just nothing out there? I might as well keep the costume on and work the streets for real."

"You're killin' me here, Erica." Beth bounced off her bed and scooped up the stack of mail her friend had dropped before making her watch the faux audition scene. She rifled through it, tossing flyers and junk mail toward the trash chute to throw away later. "You need a boyfriend or something. What's-his-name dumped you like, what, three months ago?"

"I dumped _him._"

"Whatever, the point is you need to get out there, relax a little. Why don't we go to Tino's tonight, see if you're still a happy drunk at least."

Erica offered a halfhearted grin. "Thanks, but I have another early audition. If I don't get this one I don't know what I'll do. I'll have to get a side job and that'll conflict with more auditions and make this whole mess harder."

"Oh yeah?" Beth stooped over, recovered a flyer from her, and flicked it across the room. "Here, take a look at this. It came for me but I think they'd settle for you."

The pamphlet fluttered through the air and came to rest at Erica's feet. She picked it up and glanced it over, initially scoffing at the red and white pattern and bold lettering. With a half-mocking tone, she read aloud the sections that caught her eye. "Cornerian Army Reserve. Serve your planet while maintaining your lifestyle. Discover your strength to lead and inspire, as both a soldier and civilian. Can you rise to the challenge?" Erica cocked an eyebrow and flipped through the rest before eyeing her roommate. "You're kidding me, right? I can't even hold a gun. And those uniforms…_such _a bad match with my fur color."

Beth tossed a pizza coupon onto her bed. "Actually, it's not a bad option. My brother-in-law's in the Reserve, loves it. It's like one weekend a month for training exercises and you get a few hundred credits. Pays for his college tuition also."

"Huh. Still, can you imagine me…?"

"And hey, think of what you can put on your acting resume. Military training's got to be good for something. You said yourself, directors are always looking for wide ranges of familiarity, right? And with one weekend a month, it won't conflict with any auditions."

Erica frowned in thought and looked at the pictures on the pamphlet. "But what about, like, war?"

"Oh, please." Beth clicked her tongue and gave a dismissive wave. "Who would start a war these days? And against a planet as powerful as Corneria? Besides, the Reserve is just backup in case the real Army's in trouble. And how would that ever happen?"

"I don't know…"

The coyote glanced up from the mail and seemingly for the first time noticed the troubled conflict written on her friend's face, not just from what to do about money but also the harsh rebuffs that weighed so heavily upon her and put her dreams further out of reach than they had ever seemed. She joined Erica by the window and pulled her close with a comforting arm around her shoulders. "I know things don't seem so hot right now but you can't keep doing this to yourself. I miss the Erica Ley that made parties fun to go to in the first place, the class clown who made being sent to the principal's office an art form. Even when you knew we'd be struggling, you came up with this plan for us to be on our own and charged into it like one of these crazy soldiers in this flyer. You were never concerned over 'what ifs' in your life. You're an actress; you know that. You're meant for great things. You just have to get that old mindset back."

Erica nodded slowly, her eyes still glued to the Reserve pamphlet. "And how do you think my old mindset would see this Army thing?"

"Hmm…well, probably the same way it saw everything else: as an opportunity, most of the time to get into trouble and blame it on a freshman."

Erica chuckled and patted her friend's hand in appreciation. "Well…this really would be nice padding for my resume. Guess I can chat with someone about it, no harm in that."

"There you go. I know it's not your dream job, but keep an open mind. Things have a way of working out anyway."

-

* * *

_Thirty-two hours after the invasion of Corneria City_

-

Ley hobbled through the thick underbrush, her tired legs responsible not only for her but also the half-dead lizard who clung to her shoulders with a bloody arm over her neck. Her throat burned with each raspy breath and her muscles screamed in pain, threatening to seize on her with each excruciating step. But she could not stop. Through tear-blurred eyes she could still see her unit's final battle: the artillery that had rained upon them and filled the air with bloody mist, the gunfire from unseen foes that ripped through their lines, the thunder of explosions from their wrecked APCs. Faces that she had grown to like and trust vanished in one horrific instant.

"Stop!" the lizard gasped. "I have to stop!"

Ley's distant eyes focused and she slowed. Sweat soaked her fur and clung to her BDUs in the muggy summer weather, even under the shade of the suburban forest. She realized her helmet had fallen away sometime during the escape, or she had ripped it off because it jostled and obscured her vision; she couldn't remember much of anything after grabbing the wounded soldier and running. After scanning the sparse woods around her with fearful eyes, she set the groaning lizard down with his back against a tree and hunched over to catch her breath.

The wounded soldier ripped the bloody and already-shredded left pant leg wide open and shuddered from the pain. A spray of shrapnel had taken him below the thigh. With a voice strained from agony, he said, "Thanks for the help. What squad you with?"

Ley blinked. "Oh. Uhh…Echo. Third Platoon. PFC Ley."

"Corporal Rahjen, Second Platoon, Bravo. You injured?"

"No…no…"

"Breathe deep, private. Don't faint." The lizard ripped his field aid kit from the back of his vest and spread the contents out on the dirt before him. "Do you think you can—" He choked and clenched his eyes shut as he adjusted the leg into a better position. "Do you think you can help me with this?"

Ley reluctantly knelt by the crimson-soaked leg. Her heart had only begun to relax into a bearable rhythm but the task before her jolted it again. She reached for the aid kit and hesitated, uncertain memories from field medic training flashing through her mind. The lizard must have sensed her lack of confidence – or he didn't want his limb's well-being in such shaky hands – because he picked up a miniscule pair of tweezers and tossed an absorbent field dressing to her.

"Here," Rahjen said. "Keep as much blood out of the way as possible. I need to do this fast before I lose more."

With his left hand clenched around his right wrist to keep it steady, the corporal gritted his teeth and pulled a tooth-sized shard of metal from one of the many lacerations in his leg. He tossed it aside and continued, sweat from suppressed pain flowing down his face. Ley swallowed nausea and wiped blood away from the wounds so he could see what he was doing; the white bandage quickly turned red in her hand and seeped onto her fur.

"Fuck," Rahjen wheezed after the sixth shard, wincing from something other than the pain. The comm unit on his helmet must have burst to life in his ear, for he said between heavy breaths, "Looks like Fourth finally took out the dampener. Apply medi-seal to the cuts I've cleared, would you? You're doing fine."

As Ley retrieved the tube of green gel and followed his order, the lizard took a few breaths to compose himself and put a bloody hand to his ear. "This is Corporal Rahjen of the 33rd Light Infantry Reserve responding to SITREP request. Second and Third platoons have been routed, survivors scattered. Objective Gateway remains, I repeat Objective Gateway remains."

Ley listened with perked ears, praying for the best. Reinforcements? Extraction? She applied the gel to her comrade's leg and waited with short, tense breaths.

"Negative, we do not have the manpower….yes, sir…not yet, sir."

Rahjen tried to continue his medical work while he spoke but the pain caused too much distraction. His eyes flickered with surprise and appreciation when Ley steeled herself, took over command of the tweezers, and searched for shrapnel with a frightened yet determined demeanor.

"Yes, sir. I'm about one klick from the objective….yes, sir…fire support?" He sighed through his nose. "I understand, sir." His hand fell away from his ear and he eased his head back against the rough bark of the tree."

Ley tossed a dripping sliver of metal away in disgust and gave him a moment to brief her. When he said nothing, she spoke up with, "What is it? They can't get to us?"

"Worse than that. Our platoons were supposed to take out a roadblock a little further up this road. Apparently, it's been reinforced with a tank column. Command can't spare any air assets to make a strike; all the heavy stuff has been rerouted to Admiral Henriksen's fleet, staving off a second invasion wave near Sector Y. The rest of the strike fighters are either tangled on the south side of the city or wrecked from the first wave."

Ley discarded another shard and applied the sealant. "Can't we just wait for Fourth?"

Rahjen shook his head. "Fourth got hit hard taking out the scrambler array. They're at half strength and escorting a convoy of civilians from the city. Command doesn't think they have the power to clear the objective. But if that roadblock isn't wiped out, we can't expect reinforcements from the south." He wiped sweat from above his despondent eyes. "That's not all. If any of those tanks push forward, they'll roll right over what's left of Fourth…and the civvies also, judging from how Venom's been fighting so far. The only advantage we have is that they're apparently not expecting trouble, or else they would've moved to finish Fourth off."

The leopardess stopped working on the leg and sunk to the ground, brow furrowed. She didn't need the corporal to confirm her fears that they were stranded and would be forced to surrender, though judging from rumors she had heard, death might be preferable. How could this have happened? Not eight months in the Reserves and her worst fears became realized. Her tiny studio apartment seemed so far away, her personal worries so trite. She didn't even know if Beth escaped the city safely. Only a week before, the two had been finishing off a pizza in celebration of an audition call-back. For the first time in a long while, she had felt her life might've been heading in the right direction.

Her hands shook again. It couldn't all end like this. With a voice betraying more desperation than she wanted to show, Ley asked, "There has to be a way to link up with someone, or…or…or get past the blockade, or…I don't know, something!"

"Well, there is one more alternative." Rahjen reached into a vest pouch and pulled out a thin black case. Inside, a round blue palm-sized disc lay in its brackets. Ley recognized it as a location designator, used as signal markers for air support. The lizard glanced at her face to make sure she knew what it was and continued. "The precision artillery batteries at Fort Shepherd are still operational, but without a designator to lock on to, all they can do is bombard map grid sectors. Too many civvies and friendlies around for them to do that."

"But how do we get the designator into the roadblock? Like, stay in the trees and throw it?"

Rahjen chuckled and the motion caused him to groan in pain. "No, no. They can't know it's there. I'll get it in. I'll hide it somewhere on myself and surrender to the soldiers there. Even if they just shoot me, the designator will still be with me."

Ley gaped at him. "Are you crazy? The artillery will kill you, too!"

"This is the only way. I'm as useful as a three-legged mule out here." He noticed her troubled face and added, "It has to be done. If I don't do this, hundreds more could die and reinforcements will be blocked from the city."

"But you…what if…" Ley floundered for words but she couldn't fight the logic. Part of her, she shamefully realized, was concerned less with the man's life than with being left alone in the woods. She shook her head and realized that all this time she still thought of herself as a helpless civilian, just dressed as a soldier.

"What's the matter?" the corporal asked. "Take my pistol, you'll be fine out here until Fourth arrives."

The reassurance only made her feel more abashed. "It's not that. I shouldn't be here. I'm no soldier. I just joined the damn Army for the money and free time."

Rahjen chuckled again despite the somber situation. "In truth, so did I. Wanted the tuition money so I could go back to school, get a better job for my family. But if Venom isn't stopped, none of that matters." He gazed at the blue disc as if just realizing that the tiny thing would mean his death. "I don't think being a soldier is about uniforms and ranks. Anybody who has the balls to pick up a gun and fight back is a soldier, I suppose. I knew it might come to this when I signed up. You did too, probably, somewhere in the back of your mind, and you still signed up. The reason doesn't matter."

Ley realized that she never actually did shoot back; she dropped her gun and ran with the lizard as soon as the ambush tore apart her unit. Somewhere beneath the shame she felt something else rising in her chest, something stirred by Rahjen's selfless intentions. She had been too concerned with surviving to realize that she was not a civilian in soldier's clothing, but a soldier, one of many whom people depended upon, part of the deciding factor of whether Corneria would succeed or fall. Though fear still gripped her heart, the desire – the need – to emulate Rahjen's example overwhelmed it.

"Let me do it," she found herself saying. An idea came to mind. She may not have been a great marksman or steadfast leader, but she knew she possessed a couple skills that could come in handy.

"You? No way. You're not injured, you have a fighting chance out here."

"I'm not going in there to die. I can get in, plant the designator, and get out."

"How can you—what the hell are you doing?"

Ley had begun to strip from her uniform, tossing her vest and BDU top aside without a second glance. She hiked the bottom of her white T shirt up and tied it off in a knot above her navel. Her boots came off next, followed by her pants, causing Rahjen to look away uncomfortably. After a moment's thought, Ley used her knife to cut the midriff of her BDU top away and wrap it around her waist inside out. With a pin from the field aid kit to fasten it, the cloth passed as a shabby green skirt. Finally, she pulled the insulation liners from her combat boots and bound them to her feet with the laces. As long as no one looked at them too hard, she imagined they could pass as dirty moccasins.

"Creative," Rahjen commented, allowing himself to look again. "But what are you trying to do?"

"Turn some heads, maybe. I used to be an actress. An old scene I tried out for once might do the trick here. I just hope the Venomians are easier to please than the director."

The lizard grimaced. "Are you sure you want to do this? That's no stage down there."

"I'm sure. Like you said, it has to be done." She slipped her holotag chain off her neck and handed them to the corporal. "Hold onto these for me, okay? I'll be back for them. And you."

Rahjen took them in his bloody palm and gave her a look she would never forget, a look she couldn't describe because she had never seen it before in the civilian world. She wondered if such appreciation and connection even existed in the civilian world, or if it could only be found in combat. It stirred in her a feeling like none she'd ever felt. All her grandiose dreams of being a star, of being a celebrity, all seemed like nothing compared to that. The fear that once crippled her drove her, reminded her that she was finally doing something worthwhile.

"Here." Rahjen pushed the disc into her hand. "You know how it works. Twist the rim, two blinks means it's activated. I'll radio Command and get them to alert Fort Shepherd's sensors. Get it as close to the front of the tank column as possible then get the hell out of there. You'll want to be at least a hundred yards away and you'll only have a few minutes."

Ley nodded. "I'll do my best."

"I hope your best is enough. This is the toughest audience you'll ever face."

-

* * *

-

Ley sauntered down the middle of the suburban road, her hips swaying back and forth like a curvaceous metronome and her shoulders eased back to accent her chest. The roadblock laid only a stone's throw ahead of her, anchored tank traps and waist-high hex-polymer barricades acting as its border. Two machine gun nests sat at the corners and three anti-armor plasma batteries poked through gaps in the barricade between them. Two prefab trailer-sized structures had been set up just off the road behind the barricades. Though they didn't bristle with death the way everything else in sight did, Ley knew them to be just as threatening; one would be for communications, the other probably for munitions and storage.

The long walk to the roadblock had been a struggle, trying to maintain a relaxed air while faced with such a nerve-wracking task. As she neared, she forced a warm smile onto her muzzle and tried to keep from shaking. Two Venomian soldiers who had obviously been keeping an eye on her since she came into view converged near the center of the barricades and shouldered their rifles. Her smile faltered. Her legs rebelled and began to pull away, urging her to run before they fired. But she stayed on course.

"Halt!"

The leopardess gladly stopped. She raised her hands in surrender but kept her elbows low and her movements smooth and seductive. Praying her voice wouldn't quiver or crack, she called out, "Hey, there! Is that any way to treat a lady?"

"Turn around and leave or we will open fire!"

_I bet you would, bastards. _"I've been walking all day! Couldn't I bother you fine gentlemen for some water?"

"Leave, now!"

Ley took a tentative step forward, trying to keep herself from tightening in anticipation of the searing burst sure to hit her any moment. "I—" _No, that voice won't do it. Try again. Reach for the nosebleed seats. _"I don't want anything for free! I'm sure we can…work something out."

No response, whether gunfire or threat. She dared another step. Then another. The Venomians – a canine and an avian, she soon saw – lowered their barrels but kept them ready and their fingers on the triggers. She eased into a slow walk, the small victory boosting her confidence a bit. _Don't get lost in the moment. You're not Erica Ley. You're Miranda Lariette, a whore just glad for a drink._

"Thanks for the welcome, boys," Ley purred. She approached the roadblock and rested her forearms on the barricade, her cleavage apparent, her back arched, and her hips still swaggering. "I doubt you could've lived with yourselves if you damaged this, eh? My name's Miranda…what would you like me to call you?"

The two soldiers maintained their military composure but their wide eyes and pursed lips gave away the urges of two men who had been deployed without recreational leave for far too long. The canine cleared his throat and gestured for his comrade to check their guest for weapons. The avian didn't need to be asked twice; he slung his rifle and sidled through a small admittance gap in the barricade.

"Watch those hands, you, or I'll have to charge you for the time." Ley shot the avian a sultry grin, trying to hide her own blushing and discomfort at the enemy hands taking their sweet, liberal time frisking her. "Find anything you like?"

"Keep quiet," the canine snapped, his rifle still ready.

"Ohh, I bet you like it rough. Don't worry; if you got the creds, I got the energy."

The avian finally took his hands off her and reported, "She's clean."

"I wouldn't be so sure. I can be as dirty as you want." Ley winked. _Watch it, don't ham it up. Keep the improv down._

"So, you from the city or—?"

"Hey!" the canine soldier hissed at the other. "Bruga will have our asses if he sees this."

"Who cares? What's he gonna do, ship us to a post more fucking boring than this one?" The avian offered a leering smirk to the leopardess. "I can't do nothin' now, but come back tonight after dark and maybe we can slip into the woods."

"You sure?" Ley pouted and ran her fingers up the front of his black and sand-brown uniform. "I hate to see a man bored when excitement is my trade."

"That's a quick tongue you got there. Bet you're a popular one back home."

"Oh, yes." Ley took his lapel between her thumb and forefinger and pulled herself closer. "They all rave about my tongue also."

"Well then, you—"

"Oh, shhhhhhit…" the hushed, drawn out expletive uttered by the canine Venomian alerted the flirting couple to another soldier walking their way from the prefab structures. A short, elderly lion with a scar under his left eye visible even from twenty paces away, he wore a black officer's suit with silver colonel's ranks on the epaulets. The two barricade guards snapped to nervous attention as he approached and looked at them both in turn, his eyes finally settling on Ley.

"Private," he finally said, his voice high yet confident and commanding.

"Yes, sir?" the canine responded.

"Could you explain to me why an enemy Cornerian is this close to the outpost and still breathing?"

"She, uh…she's unarmed, sir. A civilian. Just a whore from the city."

The colonel – Bruga, Ley guessed from what the soldiers had talked about – looked her up and down. "And what does the little Cornerian whore want?"

"Water, sir. And…work."

_He may be old but he ain't dead. Work him. _Ley leaned against the barricade once more and met the colonel's eyes. "Venomian, Cornerian, the creds are all the same to me. I'm not even from here, just moved in a few months ago. You know…" Ley flashed her practiced grin. "I really like that uniform. You think we can go to your room and I could…try it on?"

Bruga narrowed his eyes, though whether from annoyance or consideration she couldn't tell.

_Time for the big scene._

"Think about it; the both of us, all alone on such a warm, pleasant day. These days are meant to be shared." She flashed her pleading lashes. "I'm new around here also, colonel. I won't judge you, you don't judge me. We'll just bathe in each others' passion."

A hint of an amused smile pulled at Bruga's muzzle and he allowed his eyes to rove her body again. Ley's come-hither expression masked her unbearable tension; this was her last chance to get into the blockade. At least the tense sweat worked in her favor, glistening on her fur. She considered saying something else but stopped herself. _Don't oversell it. Just look the part._

"You checked her?" the lion finally said after what seemed like an eternity.

"Yes, sir."

"I suppose I can find it in my heart to aid a poor civilian." He extended his hand to her. "I'm not to be disturbed. If contact with regional Command is re-established, report our status and record our orders. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Ley alighted her hand onto Bruga's and felt a chill run up her spine. Who knew how many Cornerians he had helped destroy? Keeping her cordial smile proved tougher than ever before. _Fake it 'til you make it, Erica. Fake it 'til you make it._

At last, she squeezed through the barricade partition and found herself behind enemy lines. A dozen or so other soldiers mulled around the outpost camp, checking equipment stations or just standing and talking out of boredom. Though she hadn't noticed before due to her concentration and two light transport vehicles obscuring the road, a gray, hulking Venomian tank sat idle like a sleeping dragon on the other side of the small outpost. Seven of its brethren were lined up behind it, confined by the narrow road. Ley shuddered at the sight of the tank column; they would have been a force to reckon with even if Fourth Platoon was at full strength. She wondered if the artillery would impact a wide enough kill zone to destroy them all but she realized it didn't matter; as long as the first one or two were taken out, the rest would be useless, trapped with the forest so closely bordering the thin road.

A few long tents stood side by side next to the prefab structures: field barracks. Beside it stood a tent about half the size with a star insignia emblazoned on the door, signaling the commander's quarters. Ley's mind raced as they neared the tent; once inside, she'd have a hard time finding an excuse to leave…at least without first taking the whore persona all the way. She could just leave the designator inside the colonel's tent, but...no, it had to certain. The first tank in the column, just as Rahjen had ordered.

_Time to ad lib._

Ley broke away from Bruga's hand and jogged the short distance to the first tank. She gazed at it with mock amazement and ran her hands over the scarred metal. "Wow! I never saw one of these things up close. You drive these?"

Though obviously impatient, the lion played along and grinned humorlessly as he stepped toward her. "No, no. But I do tell them what to shoot at."

"Hey." Ley shot a wicked glance over her shoulder. "I've never done it inside a tank. Want to give it a go?"

"I don't think so."

"Aw." The leopardess crouched and looked under the chassis, between the treads. She held the metal for support and fluidly reached under her shirt with her right hand, trying to make it look like she just placed her elbow on her knee just for balance. She dug between her breasts and pulled out the small blue disc. "How about underneath? That would be something to tell the girls back home about."

"No. Now come along, I haven't all day."

"Oh, alright." Her hand found a smooth stretch of plating under the front armor and pushed, the adhesive backside of the disc taking root. As she stood, she rolled her fingers along the edge of the disc, activating the sensor lock with a series of nearly inaudible clicks. _I did it. Dear God, I did it._

With that hurdle out of the way, she took Bruga's hand again and her face tightened in anxiety as she realized that she hadn't properly planned her escape. A few minutes, Rahjen had said, a few minutes before Fort Shepherd locked on and fired. _Don't panic. Just like when you forgot your lines on opening night of Violet Grass, think clear and be smart._

Bruga opened the door to the rigid tent and allowed her in. Ley's eyes darted around the twenty-by-twenty space, her mind roiling over what possible excuse she could use to leave. A cot lay against the far side, a portable locker beside it and a folding desk adjacent to it. Atop the desk sat a laptop mounted in a blast-resistant carrying case, its screen glowing in the dim light. The colonel stepped to the cot and started to unbutton his officer's coat.

"Water?" Ley blurted, remembering Miranda's desire in the first place. Maybe she could get him to fetch it while she slipped out. "I, um…well, it's sweaty work."

"You'll get all you want when we're through. No payment in advance."

Bruga tossed his jacket over the desk chair and beckoned the leopardess forward. When she reluctantly came into his arms, his hands slithered over her body, lingering on her thighs and working their way under her skirt. She shivered despite the heat and blushed, evoking a slight furrow in the lion's brow. Try as she might, her composure faltered; the prostitute persona had taken a horrible turn, the enemy closer than she would ever want one, and death hung over her head, life measured by a matter of seconds.

"No…" she involuntarily whispered as Bruga's muzzle caressed her neck. She shivered harder and finally snapped, stumbling back with a cry of, "Stop!"

"What's the matter with you, whore?!"

Ley froze; she could think of nothing to say, nothing to make her behavior seem normal. It hardly seemed to matter; in under a minute, they both would be blown apart by artillery. Bruga came after her again and pulled her close by the midriff. As he jerked her forward, the pin holding her impromptu skirt bent and came loose. The strip of cloth hung in his bony hand and he gaped in shock. Ley winced back at suddenly being reduced to her panties but realized that the colonel's attention focused on the skirt rather than her. Her blood turned cold as she realized why; the inside of the cloth had been revealed.

Bruga let the strip of camouflage-patterned Cornerian BDU flutter to the ground. His eyes took her in once more but in newfound scrutiny rather than sexual fantasy; he seemed to see it all for the first time, from the dirt-streaked boot insulators and standard-issue laces to the subtle flecks of Rahjen's blood on her inner arms and palms that she hadn't been able to remove with her limited supply of canteen water. Ley knew she might have been able to act it away, to come up with a plausible reason for it all, but fear took hold. She felt the artillery shells bearing down on her and their impending impact shattered her concentration.

Bruga roughly grabbed her, pushed her head down, and tugged back the neck of her T-shirt for him to see. Before she could react, the lion pulled her back upright and struck her across the face with the back of his hand, sending her to the ground in a white flash of pain. Ley groaned and blinked away blurriness. The small "CA" imprinted on all Army-issue garments…she couldn't explain that away.

"Bitch!" Bruga spat. He stepped back toward his desk and slid a drawer open. "I'll make you wish you died beside the rest of your worthless soldiers."

Ley looked up in time to see him lift a pistol and energy clip from the drawer.

_Last chance. No time for stage fright._

With a desperate growl, she scrambled to her feet and lunged at Bruga just as he slapped in the clip. The elderly officer fell under her attack but retained his grip of the gun and tried to swing it back into action. Ley managed to get a hand on the gun barrel and dug his finger away from the trigger with her thumb. With groans and grunts of exertion, the two enemies wrestled on the ground for control of the gun. Finally, the colonel seemed to come up with the idea to call for help but Ley sensed it coming when he turned his head toward the door.

"He—!"

The leopardess had lurched forward on the dirt and dug her knee into the man's gut, earning a gasp of pain and silence. Suddenly at a loss for air, his grip on the gun weakened enough for Ley to pull it free with one last cry of effort. Before Bruga could recover, she kept her grip on the barrel, gritted her teeth, and swung it like a tennis racquet. A sickening dull thud sounded from the contact of the metal on skull and the colonel's eyes lolled. One final strike closed them.

Ley dropped the gun and stood to back away, her eyes plastered to the body of her first combat encounter. Dead? Unconscious? _Move it! Stop staring and move it! Now! _Her heart pounding against her chest, she tore her eyes away and went about donning her skirt again. She told herself she could still make it out; no one had heard anything, or they'd all have busted in by now. _Just calm down._

With a deep breath that did little to ease her heart and nerves, Ley pushed the tent door open to the blinding summer light and quickly closed it behind her. The mood in the camp had changed since she'd gone inside; bored soldiers had picked up their rifles and moved to positions along the perimeter, others began loading the anti-armor guns at the barricades. The canine soldier that had "greeted" her before was in mid-journey from his post to the officer's tent when Ley emerged.

"You there!" he called, jogging up to her. "That was fast."

Ley swallowed and flashed her smile. "He only had time for a quickie. I'll be back tonight. Oh…he doesn't want to be disturbed right now."

"Well, I have to. Out of the way."

Ley strode toward the barricade, fast but not too apparent. She heard the soldier's voice behind her calling through the closed tent door.

"Sir? A call came through from the city garrison. They need us on alert for possible retreating Cornerians."

Could Fourth be closing in? Ley thought about making a break for it before the soldier walked in on Bruga but the machine guns nests and alerted troops at the barricade kept her back. Did she have a choice? Take a chance with gunfire or die by the artillery.

"Sir? Are you there?"

As the canine pulled the colonel's door back, her persona vanished into a desperate bid for survival. She turned and ran in the only direction not manned by guards: toward the tanks in the rear. She didn't know if she alerted anyone by doing so; she didn't care.

"Stop!" The canine burst from the tent. "Stop her!"

Ley shrieked as she dove behind the first tank, a burst of lasers cracking and bouncing against the armor by her head. She broke cover again to get behind the second tank in the column, weathering another few rounds from the confused soldiers. With deep gulps of air burning her fear-tightened chest, she hesitated before trying to run again. They would have a bead on her by now. Nothing left she could do. _Take cover…and pray._

The leopardess hit the pavement and crawled under the third tank, bits of rough asphalt and stone grating her knees and elbows. Just as she approached the rear of the tank, a sound surrounded her: a long, low breath, like a draw-out sigh. Within only two seconds, the sigh intensified into a scream, and then finally a roar as the world exploded around her. She scrambled forward, pulling herself under the fourth tank with disregard to her pained, bleeding skin. As the initial few shells were followed with the main salvo, she curled up into a ball and covered her ears.

Her hands provided little protection from the wave of destruction that washed over the blockade. The first strike deafened her but she felt the shockwaves of each impact, felt the intense heat of fire and combustion. She shook and waited, anticipating the shell that would reach far back enough to destroy the tank she used for a bunker. The explosive force that bombarded her seemed to never end, growing intensity. She waited, tears of anxiety squeezing past her clenched eyelids. Waited…

_You brought down the house._

_Good show._

"Private Ley!"

Ley's eyes fluttered open, surprised to be opening at all. She felt no more rumbles, only the sharp pain at her joints and stiff muscles. Her head swam; she realized she had been knocked unconscious from a close blast. But how much time had passed? Sunlight still greeted her from beyond the darkness of her hideaway and through her muffled, bruised eardrums she could make out a familiar voice.

"Private Ley!"

Sucking air through her teeth from the pain, she slowly crawled out the side of the tank and pushed herself to a standing position, her head protesting and roiling in dizziness. The sight of half a dozen soldiers bringing their weapons to bear snapped her awake quicker than a shot of adrenaline.

"Hold it! Hold your fire!"

Ley's head rapidly cleared and she saw the soldiers to be wearing the proud colors of Corneria; she never thought she'd be so glad to see that uniform. With a laugh of relief, she leaned back against the tank and let a soldier with a medic's armband help her into a sitting position. He pulled back her eyelids, checked her pupils, checked for other major effects of concussion, then moved on to her bleeding knees.

"Well, look at you. Guess you're not such a bad actress after all. Wow…you've _got_ to tell me how you pulled this off sometime."

Ley looked up to see Rahjen standing over her, the owner of the voice that had been calling her name. The lizard wore a wide grin and a hydraulic brace around his bandaged leg that allowed him to walk with only a slight hobble. He stepped to the side, gestured behind him toward the remains of the blockade, and said, "Take a look at that."

Ley blinked against the sunlight and saw innumerable black, smoldering craters pocking the road. The barricades, anti-armor guns, machine gun nests, prefab buildings…all lay in ruins, crushed by Fort Shepherd's bombardment. More frightening were the husks of the first two destroyed tanks in the column. A shell had pounded the third, collapsing the treads and crushing the ground beneath it.

Beyond the scene of carnage, Cornerian soldiers secured the area amidst friendly APCs and a convoy of trucks, all safe. Ley smiled.

"I know what you're thinking," Rahjen said. "Your head's a mess, you're bleeding like a sausage, you came this close to death…but it's probably the best you ever felt in your entire life."

Ley said nothing, just gazed with unblinking eyes at Fourth Platoon.

"Guess you're more of a soldier than you thought."

-

* * *

-

-Promoted to Lance Corporal-

-Transferred to 42nd Reconnaissance Detachment-

-Awarded Field Ribbon for outstanding service-

-Promoted to Corporal-

-Recommended for special operations training-

(See mission log for operation history. Clearance Level 3 required)

-Transferred to Fort Fenris for observation-

-Transferred to Cornerian Army 1st Special Forces Detachment – Echo (codename Dagger)-

-end log-

-end log-

-File remainder requires Cornerian Army Special Operations Command (CASOC) Clearance Level 5-

-

* * *

-

CASOC Affiliation Record / ID: 2321-82-33HD

Name: Delaine, Richard

Rank: Master Sergeant

Callsign: Preacher

Spc: Wolf, gray

Age: 33

_See medical report for full vital layout_

_-  
_

**Service Log, Abridged**

-Cornerian Army, recruited-

-Completed Basic Training, sharpshooter qualified-

-Recommended for sniper school. Admittance rejected by candidate-

-Promoted to Private First Class, 107th Expeditionary Unit-

-Completed Chaplaincy-

-Promoted to Chaplain Sergeant-

-Assigned to Katinian Theater of Operations-

-Awarded Silver Wreath for assistance in medical treatment during defense of Ostenville-

-

* * *

_Sixteen years before The Lylat War_

-

Ricky knocked on the engraved oak door, his tiny knuckles evoking but a tap from the thick wood. He straightened the collar of his white school shirt, ensured that his belt buckle was centered, and fidgeted while he awaited the inevitable rumble of a voice from the other side. Swallowing on a dry throat, the young wolf rubbed his sweaty palms along his trousers. He had made his father mad; he wasn't sure how, but he knew that much. The only times his father ever let him in the study were when rules had been broken and punishments had to be issued. Hesitantly, he raised his fist again to knock but flinched when the voice sounded from the other side, an even commanding thunder that hinted at neither anger nor contentedness.

"Come in."

Ricky blinked rapidly, tears of anxiety building up behind his wide hazel eyes. But he wouldn't cry. No, he wouldn't allow himself to cry in front of his father. Never. He twisted the old brass knob and pushed with all his strength.

Feeling like he trespassed in a sacred place, he stepped into the study for only the seventh time in his life. Despite the room being totally forbidden to anyone other than Reverend Delaine, Ricky often entertained fantasies of sneaking in if only to marvel at the rustic furnishings and atmosphere, from the bronze candelabras and sconces that provided the dim lighting to the dark cherry wood desk. Old books, dating centuries before the holopads he used at school, lined the intricately carved bookcases along each wall. It seemed to him that the room occupied its own spot in time, immune to the changes around it, an incarnation of what Ricky could find only in history texts.

Reverend Delaine sat behind the large desk, his eyes lowered to an open book and his black overcoat melding him with the room's shadows. Ricky closed the door as gently as the monstrous thing would allow and dared three steps onto the worn burgundy carpet. _Stand up straight. Muzzle up._

The older gray wolf sat back in his leather chair and looked to his son, his strong muzzle set between hawkish bespectacled eyes. The flickering flame from the sconces created playful shadows that danced across his stern face. At last, when his son's knees all but shook with fear, he said, "Do you know why you're here, Richard?"

"No, sir," Ricky replied meekly. He hated his full name but his father always called him by it.

"No?"

"No, sir."

The reverend reached down and retrieved something. Through the faint light, Ricky recognized it and became more nervous. With a shove of the elder wolf's hand, the air rifle clattered to the ground in front of the desk with such a noise that it made Ricky wince and almost lose control of a tear.

"Do you now know why you're here?" Reverend Delaine snapped with an intensified voice.

Ricky nodded and lowered his eyes.

"Have you any excuse for your actions?"

Ricky started to talk, if only to keep his voice steady. Once he started he found it hard to stop. "It was…I…it was nothing bad, sir. Alex and a few of the older kids were shooting it at some cans behind the cafeteria. They let me watch. Then they had a contest to see who was the best and they let me try. I did real good, hit 'em all in the middle. Alex said I was a natural. They let me keep it. Until the headmaster took it away."

Reverend Delaine narrowed his eyes. "Your mother met with the headmaster. She told me he saw you pointing it at another student."

"I…" The child's voice cracked. "He's a bully. Ben Creasy. He always picks on us and I saw him shoving Anne around and I just…I just…" A tear escaped, fell loose in a shameful rivulet down his gray cheek. _Weak. Baby. _"I wanted to scare him off. I told him to leave her alone and he saw the gun and he went away. Then the headmaster saw me. He yelled at me."

The reverend removed his glasses and placed them on top of the open book. He stared at his son with an underlying temperament of anger, but something else, something that made Ricky feel worse and wish his father would just yell at him to break the silence; he saw disappointment.

"I thought I did good," Ricky near-whispered, his ears flattened. "I helped Anne. Isn't that good?"

The older wolf's palm came down hard on his desk and he stood, leaning forward into an overbearing arch above the child. The fire in his eyes put the candle flames to shame and the very walls seemed to shake with each sharp word. "Hours upon hours! Days upon days! Lord knows how much time you've spent studying His word, and only He knows if you ever truly took His lessons to heart. You've taken a weapon - a vile instrument of evil and violence – and turned it upon a fellow person. Has nothing of the Lord's sacrifices inspired you? Has not a single word of the Scriptures taken root in your mind? How could you study God's mercy and love and even think about violence, even the threat of violence?"

"Sir…I…"

"Quiet!" Another slam on the desk and another tear shaken loose. "Look at the gun, Richard. Look at it! It may be little more than a children's toy but violence must always start somewhere. Weapons are created to hurt…to kill…to create suffering around them and rob the soul of whoever wields them. Nothing good can come of violence, not ever. After all your mother and I have done to guide you along God's path, how could you think any differently?"

Ricky wanted to respond but he feared another reprisal. Questions and confusion filled his head; he had actually thought his father would be proud when he chased off the bully. He swallowed and opened his mouth hesitantly, testing the waters to see if he would be allowed to speak. When the reverend only folded his arms and glowered at him, he spoke in a low voice. "Sir, I only want to do God's work. But I thought God wants us to help those in need. Anne was in need. What should I have done?"

"Only God is capable of enacting judgment. All we can do is be His messengers in life, trying to spread enlightenment to the confused and immoral, like this Ben Creasy. You should have fetched the headmaster yourself to peacefully break up the conflict."

"But…" Ricky shook his head, puzzled. "But the headmaster can't always be there. And sometimes the unrighteous won't listen to reason. They'll continue their violence. What do I do then?" He paused and added, "What would you do if mother and I were threatened?"

Reverend Delaine did not answer immediately. His glare had softened and his once inscrutable face showed signs of his reaction to the question: initial anger at the insolence, but an anger that quickly evaporated behind reluctant admiration. Confronted with a difficult situation, his son had asked difficult questions. It would not be long before the young wolf would be ready to follow in his father's footsteps as a servant of God.

Despite the sudden reflection, Reverend Delaine's voice retained its stern domination. "I would let my faith be my shield. A man does not devote his life to peace only when it's convenient. Sometimes that means suffering and even dying to keep the idea of peace alive. You remember the story of turning the other cheek, yes? And how the Lord underwent torment and death to show that virtue ultimately prevails? No good can ever come of violence, not even if it's used for righteous intentions. Do you understand this, Richard?"

Ricky nodded, not daring to speak because he knew his father would sense his hesitation.

Reverend Delaine seemed unconvinced anyway; he stepped around his desk, over the air rifle, and crouched before his son, their eyes level. "Perhaps God gave you this 'natural' ability with a weapon to test your faith. It's quite simple to be good at something in life, to use it for your own benefit and revel in the praise. But the most difficult thing a man can do these days is devote himself to peace. I've always had high hopes for you, Richard. I know you won't disappoint me." He raised the young wolf's downcast muzzle with his finger and their eyes met. "Do you wish to do God's work?"

Ricky nodded again, more confident. He truly wanted to be a good person, as his father had taught him, and more importantly he wanted to make the reverend proud. As the elder wolf stood, Ricky felt small, overshadowed; he wondered if he would ever be as tall and wise as him.

"Go to your room," Reverend Delaine continued, "and pray for forgiveness. Then pray for guidance. Ask God to help you along the difficult path in life."

"Yes, sir."

"Keep your heart open to Him always, Richard, especially when confronted with challenges like Ben Creasy. Keep your heart open and you'll always know what to do."

"I will, sir. I promise."

Ricky pulled the monstrous door open again and closed it behind him, letting out a relieved breath at being back in the bright hallway. His father's words weighed heavily on his mind; as he trod toward his room, he decided not to wait to start his prayers. Hands folded at his waist and eyes down at the red and white carpeting, he spoke the words aloud while keeping the dilemma in his mind and asking for guidance…whatever would make his father proud.

"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name…"

-

* * *

_Two months after the liberation of Corneria  
Ostenville, Katina_

-

"…and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us…"

Delaine lost focus as the blood-soaked hand clenched his own, squeezed it in desperation. He could feel the last throes of life coursing through the hand. With a deep breath to settle his stomach, he finished the prayer.

"…and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, now and forever. Amen."

He waited for an "amen" response that never came. The blood-slick hand slid away to the ground beside the prone feline soldier, limp and heavy. Delaine could only stare at the empty eyes, numb from the hellish day. He'd performed the last rites many times as a chaplain in the Cornerian Army; some soldiers lived, others died…but he'd never had one die still holding him, still sending his final prayer to God. The wolf looked left then right at the row of injured and dying soldiers, those whom he had ministered to and those whom still awaited him. So much suffering behind him, so much more ahead. _Give me strength, Lord._

"Father?"

Delaine looked over his shoulder and stood to face a jackal no older than himself garbed in dirt-streaked fatigues, a battle-worn rifle dangling from his sling. The man's eyes, though ringed with exhaustion, remained alert and wary in the dim light of the rundown warehouse-turned-forward command post. Delaine remembered the jackal from the previous night when the remnants of his own platoon were folded into the Katinian town's garrison. The Cornerian 107th Expeditionary had taken a pounding since it landed on Katina to support the defense of Ostenville, a rural town between two major supply routes. By the time they linked up with the Katinian garrison in the town, the two bruised and bloody units barely formed a respectable defensive collaboration. Nonetheless, the town had been held despite constant Venomian attacks, mostly thanks to the jackal's calm assumption of leadership after his captain's death.

"Father Delaine, right?" the jackal said. "The 107th's chaplain?"

"That's right." Delaine saluted and dropped his hand when the salute was wearily met.

"I'm Lieutenant Wright, field commander for Ostenville's defense."

"Yes, sir, I know. We haven't met but I've observed your command. You've done an excellent job so far, all things considered."

The jackal's eyes roved the line of injured and dying men; he didn't need to speak for Delaine to know he didn't agree.

"They're in God's hands now, sir."

"Well, those men out there are in my hands." Wright gestured behind him toward the besieged town outside, silent and smoldering during one of its rare respites from combat. Soldiers hurried along the rubble-strewn streets, preparing and repairing defenses. "And I need all the help I can get if we're gonna survive another wave. Your platoon leader seems to think you might be of some help. Is it true you broke the basic rifleman qualification record your second week of training?"

Delaine pursed his lips; he knew where the conversation was heading. "Yes, sir."

"Your CO recommended you for sniper school but you turned it down. Also true?"

"Yes, sir. As I told him and the rest of the chain of command, I joined the Army to be a chaplain, to give comfort to the souls who need it. It was hard enough for me to hold a gun in Basic; I refuse to use one against another person."

Wright nodded slowly. His subtle reaction hinted that Delaine's platoon leader also informed him of the wolf's stubborn code of ethics. "I understand that chaplains are officially noncombatants, padre. But this is war, and the Venomians sure ain't playing by Interplanetary Convention rules. We're in a bad way here and I need a shooter up high who can hit what he fires at. What I want to do is put you on a roof with a five-oh-six rifle and a shitload of ammo to take out enemy snipers, officers, and gunners." He shrugged. "Think of yourself as God's sword of vengeance. You'll be saving a lot of men."

_Give me strength, Lord. _Delaine found it difficult to look the jackal in the eye. It had been easy to turn down all the officers who wanted to send him to sniper school; he had prepared himself thoroughly for the sinful temptations he would encounter in the military. But nothing prepared him for combat. Though he never took part in the battles, he witnessed them with sorrowful eyes and cared for the souls already on their way to the afterlife. No matter how often he prayed, the deep sorrow never lifted and his inner conflict raged below the surface. How could he care for his brothers and sisters when defending them was sinful in itself? His father's words always echoed within: the most difficult thing a man can do is devote himself to peace.

"I'm sorry, lieutenant," Delaine finally said, his conviction foremost in his mind. "Violence is never the answer, even with righteous intentions. I can't do as you ask." He felt a fleeting moment of shame at Wright's cold expression and gestured toward the row of wounded soldiers. "Now if you don't mind, these men need me."

Wright's eyes narrowed, piercing and hiding angry disappointment. "Those men out there need you too." As the jackal turned and walked back toward the nearly caved-in doorway, he added, "But don't worry…you'll have lots more souls to tend to soon enough."

-

* * *

-

Katina shuddered in pain as artillery bombarded Ostenville, wreaking havoc on the buildings that still remained standing. The town had once been a quiet rural community, a weekend retreat for the citizens of the larger cities. When the war ended – if the war ever ended – Delaine doubted the relaxing air could ever be felt again after such pain and destruction. From the destroyed gaps in the warehouse wall he could see the combined forces of Corneria and Katina take cover in their defensive positions in the streets and rubble. Poly-hex ballistic shields had been deployed to minimize shrapnel and blast effects but the sparse, meager supply remnants meant the portable force barriers had already been expended. All the soldiers could do was pray; Delaine closed his eyes and lent his prayers as well.

Soon, the artillery subsided without fire from the heavens; the Cornerian Navy had apparently managed to keep the Venomian fleet at bay, preventing orbital bombardments. Small comfort; through ringing ears and the crackle of a hundred fires, the rumble of land vehicles could be heard encroaching on Ostenville. Delaine flinched as an explosion erupted in the distance, half-hidden by the ravaged buildings; the forward ambushers had done their work. Four more explosions went off in rapid succession as they detonated hidden charges. That first strike seemed to be the spark that set off the powder keg; gunfire and explosives wreathed the town in chaos from the east and west as well. Venom had arrived in force.

_Death all around, _Delaine thought, silently mourning. _Lord, give me strength._

The wolf turned away from the horrific battle and retreated deeper into the warehouse where the late afternoon sun streamed through the smoke and holes in the wall and the cacophony of combat was but a series of deep echoes. A medic had stayed behind to stabilize the remaining wounded soldiers and receive any new victims. Ten minutes or so into the battle, he put his hand to his comm to receive a call and left, rifle in-hand, to tend to those in the field. Delaine never felt more alone than that moment, surrounded by the sounds of battle and the dark haunting of war-torn soldiers. As always in times of trial, he folded his hands at his waist, bowed his head, and opened his heart to God. Yet still his hands trembled and his soul lay bare and desperate. He felt no comfort.

"Hey, padre!"

Delaine looked up to see the ursine medic hurry into the room, a soldier held limp over his soldier like a sack of grain. When he knelt and eased the man onto the ground a spurt of blood splattered against his uniform from a sucking chest wound.

"Help me out here, will you?" The medic ripped the unconscious soldier's shirt apart and wiped blood away. "Fucking artillery shard went right between his ribs. Took a laser in the arm too when I was tending to him. Fucking Venomians shoot at everyone. Here, hold this in place."

Delaine knelt beside the medic and watched as he applied a liquid release valve to the wound. At the bear's prompting, he held it still while bonding medi-gel was spread around it to keep seepage down and stop tissue damage.

"The arm can wait. I'll be back."

As the medic ran back toward the fight, Delaine remained kneeling, absently wiping his bloody hands on the front of his uniform. The red liquid nearly blotted out the cross insignia that proclaimed him a chaplain. He looked to the unconscious soldier, listened to the sickening rhythmic release of blood through the valve. No way to save him. No way to even comfort him. He closed his eyes once more and prayed for the man but his prayers still felt hollow, as if God had stopped listening. He could only kneel and wait, helpless.

An hour passed, the sounds of war growing ever closer. More soldiers joined the first unfortunate one as the medic travelled back and forth. Some lasted no more than a minute. Others wept in drug-induced stupor, oblivious to missing limbs. Delaine found himself thrust into his morbid role once more, giving last rites to the dying, comforting the wounded, and administering a quick prayer for the souls of the deceased. He kept his own despair to himself, not daring to add to the burden of those before him.

Delaine helped with the triage in any way he could when the medic requested it. He didn't even notice how bloody his uniform had become until he attempted to wipe sweat from his brow with his shirt and ended up smearing red across his face. He blinked rapidly, the emotional toll of the battle weighing heavily upon him. _Lord, give me strength._

"Finally, some good news." The medic's voice rose above the din. "Wright was able to get through to a Cornerian cruiser. They're sending a squadron for close air support. All we gotta do is hold for a bit longer."

_Thank you, God. _"Is there anything you need from me?"

"Actually, yeah. Once those fighters start pounding the Venomians, I'll have a window of opportunity to extract the wounded from the more remote defensive positions. I could use your help getting them back here. You up for a little outside missionary work, father?"

Delaine didn't even need a moment to think. "Absolutely. Just know that I'll be unarmed."

The bear shrugged. "That's your call. I just need you to help with lifting and all that."

The two headed to the front entrance of the warehouse where the afternoon sun struggled to shine through billows of smoke. Delaine's breath caught in his throat at the sight of the town, ravaged further by the fighting. Lasers crossed each other in the air and pelted the ground and rubble as close as a hundred yards away. Cornerian and Katinian soldiers fell back by squads, leap-frogging with one group covering the other then vice versa. Delaine knew the plan; four defensive lines with the final stand in the fortified parking lot in front of the warehouse. With chilled nerves he realized the battle had progressed as far as the parking lot. Soldiers manned mounted guns and ducked behind poly-hex barricades.

Last stand.

"Flyboys better hurry," the medic muttered.

Delaine grabbed the wall beside him for support and uttered an urgent prayer at the sight of Venomian armored vehicles lumbering over the rubble-clogged streets. He spotted Wright leading the last of the forward defense survivors back across the barricaded parking lot; green energy blasts from the tank ripped through the air beside them and exploded with resounding thunder against the ground. No sooner did Wright leap face-first behind a barricade than a soldier with him pulled something from his vest and threw it toward the kill zone between the Venomians and the coalition forces. Delaine thought it to be a grenade at first, then noticed the gentle blue pulsing: a marker strobe, specially designed to integrate with fighter HUDs and mark friendly positions. Hope rose in the wolf's chest.

A flash of blinding green arced overhead from behind the warehouse and struck the tank, incinerating it with a large explosion that collapsed the building beside it. Three fighters screamed overhead and split formation to engage the encroaching Venomians. More twin lasers strafed the streets and chewed through the Venomian ranks, the ensuing destruction drowned out by the relieved cheers of the defenders. Though the Venomians pressed the attack, their loss of air superiority caused their resolve to falter.

"Fuck, yeah! Let's go!" The medic clapped Delaine on the shoulder. "Now's our chance!"

The two broke cover and sprinted through the defensive positions, heading toward the outer edge of the parking lot. A machine gun nest lay in ruins, one soldier torn up and obviously dead and another writhing in pain with his arms clenched around his abdomen. The medic gestured for Delaine to take one side and help move the man as gently as possible. Trying his best to ignore the gunfire and Venomians, Delaine grabbed him by the shoulders and hefted him up.

"Get down!"

Delaine blinked in confusion and looked over his shoulder to see Wright waving at them from the first barricade. A chunk of the road burst beside the jackal as an unseen force blew it apart.

"Sniper!"

The medic's eyes went wide. "Goddammit, move!"

Injured soldier in tow, they hefted him as quickly as possible back to the first barricade line and dove ungracefully over it. The wounded soldier shrieked in pain but the medic held him down, prone behind the poly-hex protection. Delaine hugged the ground himself, heart racing.

"Roof on the left!" Wright shouted. He popped up and loosed a burst from his rifle at one of the only remaining high points left in the town, a rooftop a few hundred meters away. His shots were lucky to hit the building, much less the sniper. "Who's got a goddamn shot?!"

"I see the roof," Delaine said to the medic between short breaths. "Do you see him?"

No answer.

He opened his mouth to repeat the question but stopped short when he looked over and saw the bear lying face down on top of the wounded soldier, a large entry wound marring his back. The sniper must have got off one last shot as they leapt for cover. Delaine could only stare for a few moments. One dead man, one amongst so many. Too many. Far too many. _Lord, give me strength. Lord, give me…_

Delaine's hand brushed the medic's rifle. It felt cool and welcoming…natural. Before he could stop and rationalize, his fingers wrapped around the grip and his left palm stroked the dirty receiver, brushing grime away from the shot counter. It felt right in his hands, the same way he felt when holding the Bible open across his palms. The stock went to his shoulder and his eye lowered to the assault scope. A small black figure silhouetted against the sky on the distant rooftop. A near-impossible shot for most. Simple for him.

His finger froze on the trigger.

_Lord, give me strength._

For the first time, he didn't know why he was asking for strength. Strength to shoot? Strength to avoid the temptation of violence? More sniper shots assaulted the barricades, kept the coalition soldiers pinned, but all Delaine saw was his father and the conviction he had instilled. Violence was never the answer. No…

The young chaplain was spared the decision; someone had called in the sniper position and the building erupted in flames from a fighter's attack run. With the sniper down and the Venomians embroiled with the fighters, the coalition soldiers moved forward to retake their next defensive line.

"Medic!"

Delaine dropped the rifle. Someone called for a medic but the bear was dead. Was there another one? Did the responsibility fall to him now?

"Someone get a goddamn medic over here now!"

Disturbed by how close he'd come to shooting another person, Delaine grabbed the field medic pouch from the bear's vest and headed toward the voice. Three soldiers crouched around a poly-hex barricade and a prone soldier. The spreading pool of blood became visible to the wolf before he even saw the body. As he approached, the men stepped aside and revealed the sniper's final victim, felled by one of the shots while Delaine's finger brushed the trigger and refused to pull in retaliation.

Wright's blank eyes stared at the hazy heavens. Nothing could be done for him.

One dead man amongst many. Too many. Far too many.

-

* * *

-

Delaine sat on the side of his bed, chin resting on his steepled fingers, his eyes locked on the vid-comm resting on the metal desk between the bunks. He sat alone despite the room's accommodations: four bunks, one in each corner, enough for eight soldiers. Five of his roommates had died defending Ostenville, two lay in the ship's infirmary. The silence bore down on him, interrupted only by passing footsteps every now and then from the corridor.

He didn't know how the call would go but it had to be made. He had been sitting for over an hour staring at the blank screen, trying to put his words in order. Eventually he realized that his words would not matter. No matter how delicately he broke the news, he knew the call would be unpleasant, his final arduous test as a chaplain.

The wolf stood, stepped over to the desk, and sat before the vid-comm. He punched in his home number and took some calming breaths as the screen emitted a connection tone.

And again.

_Lord, give me strength._

"Hello?"

The screen flickered to life, showing an old wolf in a black overcoat, his once-silver fur dulled with age. His voice had not lost any of its commanding presence.

"Hello, sir."

"Richard?" Reverend Delaine squinted at his son. "Are you alright?"

Delaine remembered the small discolored medi-gel spots that still dotted the side of his muzzle where debris had cut him. "Oh. Yes, I'm fine."

The reverend nodded and tightened his lips. He had objected to his son's career in the Army, if not for the danger than for the temptations of violence. Only after the younger wolf vowed to uphold his ethics as an unarmed spiritual healer did he concede. "Your mother's been worried. The news says the battle for Katina is…harsh."

"Tell her I'm fine. I, uh…we…" Delaine wiped his face and took another breath. The pent-up emotions from the battle had been raging inside him and threatened to come to a head. But he would not cry in front of his father. Never. "A lot of people died. A lot of people who didn't deserve to."

"I told you this when you joined. I told you your faith would be tested. As a man of God, you must be a beacon in these evil places. Did you perform well? Did you do all you could to ease their pain?"

"Yes, sir." Delaine started to nod but stopped. "No…no, sir, I didn't. I could have done more."

"Oh?"

The chaplain hesitated. He knew everything would change if he kept talking but it had to be said. "I could have helped defend. I could have protected them and saved their lives. A lieutenant…he wanted me to help but I said no. And people died because of that. I should have helped."

"Richard," the reverend rasped, "you hold your tongue this instant."

Delaine couldn't stop even if he wanted to. His words took on a mind of their own, relaying everything he felt. "God gave me a natural ability and I could have used it for good. You once told me that weapons are evil, father, but that's not what I think. A weapon is only evil if the hands wielding it are evil. I could have used a weapon for good."

"Richard! You know perfectly well that God is your shield! Your prayers protect those who—"

"My prayers meant nothing! God was not there!"

Reverend Delaine blinked, stunned, as his son shouted.

"Good men died in ways you couldn't imagine! I did my part and prayed and cared for the wounded and left my faith in God. But He abandoned me! In the smoke and fire and blood, He abandoned me when I needed Him most! I could have saved a man's life with one simple pull of a trigger but my misplaced faith held me back. And that man died. Wherever God was, He wasn't there. He sat by and watched as Hell itself rose up." Delaine swallowed, trembling. "But _I _was there, father. _I _could have intervened."

Reverend Delaine slowly shook his head and spoke in a near whisper. "Dear Lord. What's happened to you? Violence never solves anything, Richard. You know that."

"No, sir. I know that violence is terrible. Violence is nothing to be glorified or loved. But there can be good in why people choose to fight. God gave me a natural ability. I don't think it's a test, as you once said…I think it's a calling."

The reverend's steely eyes drooped in despair. "Richard…what are you trying to tell me?"

"I…" Delaine wiped his face again and mustered his conviction. "I'm leaving the chaplaincy. I've enrolled in sniper school. I transfer back to Corneria in two days for preparation."

He expected anger and scolding, threats and bile. But the elder wolf only stared back with those desperate eyes, silent as the empty room.

"Father? I promise I'll always remain a good man, a man of God. Violence will never overtake me."

When Reverend Delaine replied, his voice took on a soft tone that his son had never heard. Too deep and absent for sorrow…more like mourning. "One day you may find you've been holding a rifle too long to let go. Goodbye, Richard."

"Sir, please. I don't want this to drive you away. I know you don't agree with me, but you're my father. Can't we—?"

The vid-comm flickered off, leaving Delaine in darkness. He could only stare, so much more he wanted to say blocked and bottled up, possibly never to be said. His resilience felt besieged but he reminded himself of why he chose this new path and the sacrifices he knew he'd have to make.

_It's okay, go ahead. He's not looking anymore._

Delaine blinked and two tears streamed down his cheeks.

-

* * *

-

-Assigned to Cornerian Army sniper school, chaplaincy rescinded-

-Sniper qualified-

-Assigned to 54th Expeditionary Unit-

-Awarded Star of Merit for heroic actions during allied operations-

-Recommended for advanced field training-

-Recommended for special operations training-

-Assigned to 14th Special Operations Group-

(See mission log for operation history. Clearance Level 3 required)

-Transferred to Fort Fenris for observation-

-Transferred to Cornerian Army 1st Special Forces Detachment – Echo (codename Dagger)-

-end log-

-end log-

-File remainder requires Cornerian Army Special Operations Command (CASOC) Clearance Level 5-

-

-


	25. Beneath the Blue

[Author's Note: I hadn't anticipated the length of this chapter so I decided to split it into two rather than have one very long one. With most of it already written, the second part of this chapter should be up in two or three days. Appreciation as always to my reviewers. Thanks for reading everyone and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

(Apologies if anyone with story/author alerts sees a double post. The site mail notification system was apparently a little borked.)

-

CHAPTER 19, Pt. 1  
Beneath the Blue  
_Compromised Titan-class vessel: LDC Vanguard  
2344 hours Vanguard local time_

-

Subject: Charlotte walked the silent transit corridors of the LDC Vanguard, halfway between the rear crew quarters and the starboard supply storage. The light pad of her footsteps were ¾ of a second apart. Charlotte heard nothing of alarm, sensed nothing of alarm, saw nothing of alarm, only empty corridors, black energy scoring on the walls, and corpses on the ground. Remnants of when the halls were not silent, when noise and death surrounded her like…

_Like…_

But all was silent again.

_Silent as a…as a…_

_The mistress requires focus._

Charlotte's patrol covered the starboard sector of the territory under Venom's control. Her sister protected the port side. When none were left to kill, she started her patrol as the mistress had ordered. The enemy had retreated and barricaded themselves as expected, leaving Charlotte to her empty halls. The engineers would do their duty for the mistress. The twin tigers would conduct their distraction. Charlotte and her sister need only ensure the halls remained empty for them.

Empty…empty was like silent.

_Silent as a empty._

_I remember silence._

_The mistress requires focus._

Soldiers of Venom passed Charlotte intermittently on their own patrols. Fear in their eyes upon sight of her. The mistress told Charlotte to look for fear, to use it to her advantage, to kill those weakened by fear. But the mistress said not to kill soldiers of Venom. The fear made her want to kill them, made her blood…

_Rush…_

_Boil…_

_Like a…_

…urge her to kill them, but…

_The mistress requires obedience._

Charlotte could never damage the mistress' property, no matter how they upset her blood with their fear. She found their fear understandable. They were not Chosen by the mistress like Charlotte and her sister. They did not wear the black and mask of the mistress' Chosen Children. The mistress Chose Charlotte and her sister as her favored Children…her Angels…her Beloved. Their fear betrayed their envy. They should have been punished for their fear.

_Blood boiled like…_

_Hot as a…_

_The mistress requires obedience._

Charlotte's patrol covered the starboard sector of the territory under Venom's control. Her sister protected the port side. The enemy believed themselves to be safe behind their sealed doors when in fact they merely served the mistress' will by staying out of the way. Charlotte continued on her patrol, the light pad of her footsteps ¾ of a second apart.

_"Control to…Charlotte. Please respond."_

The Voice in her ear, usually reserved for her sisters and the mistress. Tainted by the fear of a soldier of Venom. Charlotte's hand slipped from beneath her cloak and went to the side of her mask. "I am here."

_"Starfox and the marine reinforcements are approaching the Vanguard. Defense turrets have opened fire. Do you…do you have any further orders?"_

Charlotte opened her mouth and words came forth. She knew the words to be true and wise. "The defenses will destroy them. Send the engineers' escort fighters to intercept as well. We must be wary of Dagger's audacity if they are part of this attack. For precaution, send soldiers to guard airlocks C1 and C3. I will guard B1. Alert my sister Lenore and send her to me."

_"Yes, ma'am."_

The upsetting voice cut away.

Charlotte broke from her patrol and hurried, the light pad of her footsteps 1/3 of a second apart. The enemy would have been foolish to attempt a breach on the Venomian side of the Vanguard. Yet the mistress had been clear in her warnings about Dagger. They were rare foes. Actions that would be foolish for normal soldiers could be accomplished by them. The taint of fear did not follow them into battle.

A short elevator ride and a few minutes of rapid cadence brought Charlotte to the cargo transit sector corridor bordering the starboard hull. Wide windows lined one wall of the corridor, allowing her not only a view of space but also the intense battle unfolding nearby. She slowed and approached the window, trying to deduce why the defenses had not neutralized the invaders already. The turrets' red lasers filled her view along with the large Starfox mothership and three smaller transport vessels. Fighters weaved through the lasers…

…dancing. Dancing like…

_Like…_

_Graceful as a…_

_The mistress requires focus._

Charlotte's eye caught their plan and she nodded once in appreciation of it. The three transport craft flew in tight formation, close to the Starfox mothership's starboard side. The Starfox mothership acted as a shield, protecting the three transports from all turrets to its port side. The fighters focused on destroying the turrets targeting the transports. A daring plan. Foolish. The Starfox mothership's shields could not last forever, nor could the fighters' skill and luck. Foolish.

Foolish like Dagger…

One of the transports broke the protective formation behind the Starfox mothership and boosted toward the Vanguard hull. Charlotte did not need to calculate to estimate their trajectory; the airlock she had vowed to protect was the only one in their approximate range. Her blood…

_Boiled like a…_

…heated at the prospect of killing Dagger as the mistress desired and wished for. She watched the Cornerian transport ship for a few more seconds and caught herself hoping for its safe arrival at the airlock. What curse it would be for turrets to claim such a prized kill when the mistress' Beloved was so close. Before continuing her trek to B1, Charlotte caught her ghostly reflection in the window. The mistress called her Children's masks Sacred Shrouds. So much more than flesh and fur, the mistress said. Charlotte remembered the mistress' love for her Children whenever she saw her mask. Every Child unique and special, the mistress said. Every Child protected by the love she put into their Sacred Shrouds.

_The mistress requires obedience._

Charlotte snapped her head away from the window and walked briskly on her set path to the airlock, the time punctuated by shudders beneath her feet as more turrets fell victim to enemy fighters. The final corridor soon lay before her, battle-lit window on her right and nondescript doorways on her left leading to inconsequential administration rooms. A closed door at the far end led to a small receiving bay and airlock B1. Charlotte blinked and prepared her body for combat with twists of her neck and joints to release gaseous pressure. As she strode forward, she pulled her SEC-29 from its holster and kept the trigger half-depressed beneath her index finger.

_"Control to Charlotte. I'm showing pressure feedback from your airlock. I've rerouted a patrol but it'll take them a bit to get there. Can you—"_

"The intruders will soon be dead," Charlotte hissed. "Leave me be."

The envious soldier of Venom did not even dare an affirmation.

Dagger must have indeed broken their way aboard then. Charlotte raised her pistol to the side of her muzzle and approached the door.

She did not hesitate.

With a flick of her finger on the activation pad, the door slid open and she swept through. The receiving bay stood silent, the airlock open with red warning lights flashing on either side of it. No Dagger intruders in sight.

But her sister awaited her.

Another Beloved of the mistress stood before the airlock, SEC-29 in hand, her cloak limp in the still air and her Sacred Shroud proudly watching over the bay. Charlotte noticed no sign of a fight; perhaps the enemy cowered in their ship, fearful of Venom's Angels. Perhaps even Dagger now knew the taint of fear.

"You arrived quickly, sister," Charlotte said.

"Yes."

Charlotte lowered her pistol and walked toward her. "Shall we wait and taste their fear?"

"No. I already have my target."

Lenore raised her pistol…and pointed it at her fellow Child. Before Charlotte could react, a laser took her in the chest. She fell to her back and stared at the ceiling through the lenses of her Sacred Shroud, confounded by the sudden wave of pain that she had never felt. The heat blinded her and she became aware of her heart.

It slowed…and slowed…the blood soaked her…

She bathed in the fascination of the experience.

But the heat disappeared and when she blinked she could no longer see. A chill wrapped her body. Her muscles froze in cold. So cold, as cold as…

_Cold like a…_

She finally found a word to complete one of her struggled thoughts, an experience she finally knew how to connect.

_As cold as the slumber my mistress first pulled me from._

_-_

_

* * *

-  
_

The thud of a body hitting the deck followed the sharp discharge of the SEC-29. Gage peeked around the corner of the airlock and saw the Siren laying still, sucking wet, shallow breaths through her punctured windpipe, not even reacting to the obvious pain that such a shot would cause. With a grimace, he looked to Fara; he had been reluctant to ask her to take on the role of the Siren to begin with, especially now that she knew who was under the mask. The captain had no idea how she would react or what expression shaped her face under her own mask.

Her stare lingered on the dead Siren only a moment before she waved the waiting Dagger soldiers into the receiving bay. Gage skirted into the room, rifle shouldered and pointed toward the Siren's door of entry, and signaled for Ley and Delaine to move forward and secure it. Only silence met them; the Siren had come alone. But someone would realize her disappearance sooner or later.

"You alright?" Gage asked.

"You don't need to check up on me every two seconds." Fara gripped the side of her mask and adjusted it before shrugging her shoulders and fidgeting as if the suit didn't fit, as she had been doing the entire trip over. Gage had thought of asking how the suit couldn't fit if it had been literally tailor-made to fit her body but he knew she felt uncomfortable in it for other reasons. The vixen pulled the cloak lower over her shoulders and walked with him toward the door. "Are you sure the rip isn't noticeable?"

Gage glanced at the torso of her Siren combat suit and tried not to think about its previous owner, the Siren from the Nyx who now lay on a cold slab in the INH's medical bay. After he had unmasked her, Gage debated whether to take her back for proof or scientific study or something to explain how she could exist. Never did he imagine he would ask the woman he loved to don the suit.

"Sure fooled that one," the Dagger captain replied, nodding to the dead Siren. "Robin patched it up great." After a pause, he added, "Listen, I know how hard it was for you to put it on. Let me know if you—"

"Gage, I said you don't need to check up on me! I want to help, I said I'd do it, and I will."

With a frown he looked away; hearing Fara's sweet voice distorted and mangled from the mask mouthpiece had grated his nerves from the start. He turned his attention to the task at hand. "Dagger One to Starfox and Husky. We've breached airlock B1 and are continuing to our objective. Respond if you receive this, over."

Gage hadn't hoped for much and he got just that. After a few seconds of dead air, he shook his head. "Our primary objective is still that goddamn jammer. Until it's out of commission, we're on our own back here.

Ley clicked her tongue. "Business as usual then, boss?"

The wolf adjacent her slicked sweat from his forehead with the tied tail of his green bandana and answered with a nearly inaudible utterance. "The strong were gifted with abilities such that they may use them. We exist for nothing if not impossible adversity."

"You always know how to bring class to a screwy mission, Del. You're like a doily in a rest stop bathroom."

"I am…_not_…a doily."

Gage rolled his eyes; any army commander would have told his troops to shut their yaps but he knew the banter relaxed his team and kept them aware of each others' positions and situations. He'd worked with them long enough to know that nothing could break their focus on the mission, much less a little talk. While the leopardess and wolf continued their debate over who more resembled lace decorations, Gage adjusted his HUD until the comm overlay – scrambled and stuck on "No Signal" – flashed before his left eye along with a slow-filling progress bar.

"Okay, listen up."

Ley and Delaine immediately fell silent.

"The comm unit is interfacing with the HUD to show an estimated location of the interference. It'll take a few minutes and we don't have that kind of time to waste, so we'll move toward the center of the ship. They most likely would have set up the jammer in a centralized location anyway. The mission remains the same: disrupt the jammer, make contact with the bridge for further orders. If all's gone well, the 3rd Marine transports have made it to the central hangar already and will brief McGarret on the LDC's stance. They'll barricade the orbital bombardment control station while we reopen the lines of communication. If all _hasn't_ gone well…then, like you said, business as usual."

Fara interjected. "Do you still need me to…?"

"Yes. Fara will always be a few steps ahead posing as a Siren to scout and distract the enemy. Keep it quiet. This isn't the most discreet entrance we ever made but we need to keep a low profile so they don't get twitchy around hostages and bombs. And if Hellion's here, we sure as shit'll see both. Clear?"

"Sir."

"Right, boss."

Gage brushed by them through the open doorway, raised his rifle, and gestured for Fara to go ahead. "Keep close to me, tight column. Ley, you got the rear. Weapons cold; return fire only."

With a last glance over her shoulder, Fara moved off with a quick yet casual gait, her arms swinging loosely and any tension she felt gracefully hidden. Gage led his team in silence, stopping at each corner and listening to her footsteps. At the all-clear signal – two quick clicks of her tongue against the roof of her mouth – they swung around the corner and moved to the next intersection or doorway. Despite her assurances, Gage still kept an eye on Fara to make sure she didn't start to become burdened by the pressure.

After a few minutes and half a dozen turns of the repeating rhythm, Gage flattened against a wall and waited for the clicks to proceed. They didn't come. Instead, Fara's footsteps halted and four more pairs of boots jogged into earshot from ahead. The fox raised his hand to get his team's attention and signaled for them to be ready in case the newcomers needed a quick takedown. He found himself fighting the urge to whip around immediately and start firing, but he couldn't let his concern for Fara jeopardize the mission. He swallowed the momentary lapse in discipline and refocused.

From around the corner, Fara's harsh voice halted the footsteps. "What are you fools doing here?!"

The fear-laden male reply told a relieved Gage they were dealing with grunts or pirates, not more Sirens.

"You, uh…Command said you weren't responding to comm requests. They want to know the status of airlock B1."

"It was a decoy piloted by a robotic drone. My comms have gone dead; has the jammer been moved or attacked or caused disruption anywhere else?"

"No, ma'am. Mess hall detail has reported no trouble."

"Then tell Command all is clear and I'm coming back to replace my comm unit. All of you go to reinforce other airlocks; this decoy is meant to divert us for a reason."

"Yes, ma'am."

The footsteps retreated the way they came and soon vanished altogether. Rather than continue, Fara walked back toward her allies and let out a long breath through her tight mask. Gage couldn't tell from her covered face what she felt but her gloved hands trembled ever so slightly.

"That was perfect," Gage said as he stopped the tracking system on his HUD. No need for it anymore. "Were you actually trying to get them to give us the location of the jammer?"

"I thought I was going to freeze but the words just came out of me. The right words, apparently."

"Well, that made our job easier. Should keep them busy for awhile too. Head for the aft mess hall: up two levels, then follow the signs."

With a nod, Fara assumed her position once more and led the way. As Gage followed, an odd sense displacement lingered; only two days before, this ship had been his home. Throughout the entire ordeal with Dianus, the Vanguard had remained the citadel, the one place in that God-forsaken stretch of space that offered safety. If Dianus possessed the manpower, resources, espionage system, and…most important of all…brass balls to strike the Vanguard, she could rekindle disaster that hadn't been seen since the Lylat War. Gage frowned at the prospect; old nightmares of the war had just begun to fade into the shadows. The galaxy wasn't ready for another onslaught.

As they neared the elevator, the corridors showed signs of conflict. Blackened laser scoring marred the walls and floor, and spent energy mags and shrapnel littered the floor amongst burned, blood-soaked bodies. Fara hesitated and looked back as if asking whether they should do anything with their fallen comrades but Gage shook his head and waved her on. Plenty of time for the dead after the living were taken care of. The captain noticed an absence of enemy bodies and refused to believe the marines hadn't killed anyone. Smear paths weaving through the battle scars on the floor told the story: Dianus' soldiers left none of their own behind to be searched or identified.

_Why would they do that if they aimed to take over or destroy the ship anyway?_

Gage filed the thought in the back of his mind as he took up position against the final corner before the elevator. The echoes of battle culminated there; the Vanguard soldiers had apparently tried to make a stand near the elevators to block off the intruders but the surprise attack had overwhelmed them. Fara rounded the corner and walked down the corridor toward the elevator a couple hundred feet away, stepping over bodies with more nonchalance than she must have felt comfortable with. The footsteps continued, sometimes wet with blood, without any signal for advancement.

"You there!" the vixen barked. "What are you doing here?"

A male voice responded. "Command ordered us to guard this elevator, ma'am."

"We have a probable attack at airlock C1. Move there now to reinforce."

"Ma'am…our orders have not been updated."

Ley's voice hissed in Gage's ear. "Sir, I hear footsteps behind us. Should I fall back and engage?"

"No, stay put." The fox spoke into his comm. "Fara, get them out of here ASAP."

"I'm updating your orders right now, soldier! Go reinforce C1."

"I'm…I'm sorry, ma'am. Command told us not to budge for anything."

"Coming at us, sir," Ley warned. "Not passing by."

Gage silently cursed. "Go check it. Take him down if you can do it silently."

Ley snuck off and disappeared the way they came, through the logistics offices. One of the nervous soldiers at the elevator babbled on how he would absolutely love to help but Command would have his ass if he left. Gage almost felt sorry for the poor bastard, stuck between what a Siren would do to him for disobeying and what Dianus' officers would do to him if he left his post. Any slight amusement he felt at listening to the man squirm dissipated when Ley returned from her short recon stint, her face a controlled shield hiding fear.

Her single word was enough to change the situation. "Siren."

The fur on the back of Gage's neck stood on end and his eyes widened. "Fara, kill them. Now!"

Gage hopped around the corner and ran forward, his team at his heels. The pair of enemy soldiers at the elevator found time for only a surprised blink past Fara before the vixen struck with her wrist blade, first plunging it into the heart of one then swiping across in a spray of blood to the other's neck. They hit the ground and stayed there, dead before the blade retracted back into the black wristguard. Fara froze for a moment afterward and looked down at her wrist. Even Gage hadn't expected such an efficient dispatch of the two soldiers but he didn't stop to ask questions. He only hoped that whatever combat prowess had come back to her would be enough.

"Siren behind us," Gage said as Dagger joined her at the elevator, answering her unasked question. He smacked the call button and rapidly tapped it a few more times for good measure. "We have to get the hell out of here."

Fara pulled her SEC-29 from its holster and stepped back against the smooth metal elevator door. "Can you kill it?"

The captain grimaced at the memory of the fight onboard the Nyx that almost claimed Delaine's life. "It's no Sunday picnic. We're better off keeping the hell away until we can fight her on our own terms. Delaine, keep a bead on the end of the hallway. If so much as a fucking flea shows its face, blow it off."

"Sir."

The wolf knelt, adjusted his holosight for longer range, and brought it to his eye. Gage and Ley stood against the walls and trained their weapons down the corridor as well, waiting with the tension of those who had fought a Siren before.

All remained silent, save the gentle hum of the elevator shaft punctuated by melodic, taunting pings as it counted off decks on its way to them. Gage kept his breathing under control and waited with tensed muscles and a half-pulled trigger, the silence accenting each slow exhale through his nostrils. He didn't know how – he didn't even know if he had imagined it or not – but a gust of frigid air brushed his fur as prelude to her arrival.

Delaine fired.

The ebon cloak had only barely gusted into view when the sniper's reflexes caught it and fired at it. Gage doubted even he or any Dagger soldier would have been able to anticipate such a shot but the Siren reacted with near-supernatural speed, unhindered by the deception that felled the other. As if wincing from a pesky mosquito, she flicked her head to the side, allowing the laser to pass by and impact the wall behind her. A following shot at her chest was met with equal disdain as she spun to the side, back out of view around the corner.

The black cloak billowed into view once more but for only a fraction of a second as the Siren loosed a single snap shot from her pistol. It singed the fur at Gage's neck and sparked against the elevator door, evoking a curse from him. With a snarl he pulled the trigger further and waited, silently daring the vixen to make her move.

But no more shots followed. Instead, a sound echoed down the corridor, like a series of rapid clicks and guttural grunts. Gage finally realized it to be a sad excuse for a laugh.

"The Rogue Siren," the voice continued, light and ghostly. "I found our sister's body. She died without fear by your traitorous hand."

They waited, weapons quivering with anticipation.

"But you…I feel your fear. It sickens me. It…_sickens_ me!"

_Ding!_

The elevator doors slid open and Gage wasted no time shoving a startled Fara. "Covering fire!"

The corridor erupted in a blaze of energy, lasers searing the far intersection where the Siren hid. Gage knew they wouldn't hit anything but the fire kept the vixen and her deadly marksmanship pinned around the corner. Ley skirted backward into the elevator first, followed by Delaine, and finally Gage, who kept the fire up until the doors started to close and his rifle clicked on a dry mag. The Siren made her move in the momentary silence and bolted around the corner into a sprint toward the elevator. Shots from her pistol kept her four enemies flat against the sides of the elevator but the doors closed before she could reach them.

Gage let out a tense breath as the encroaching footsteps fell silent and he hit the button for _14_. "Looks like we – shit!"

The fox fell to the ground as a short blade pierced the door beside him in a burst of sparks and grinding metal. Gage pulled himself away and recognized the Siren's wrist blade, twisting and chewing at the door like a ravenous creature. Fara put her pistol to the blade and fired, blowing the intruding half off in another assault of blinding sparks. It clattered to the ground and the elevator began to move up, leaving the war-torn corridor behind.

Dagger and Fara waited with sharpened nerves for a few seconds until the silence truly felt real and not just a pause foreboding another attack. Gage rose to his feet and looked at the severed blade on the floor while his team reloaded and checked their equipment for unnoticed hits.

"I don't think she liked your greeting, Del," Ley said, wiping the cold sweat from her brow.

The sniper scowled. "I haven't missed like that since grade school."

"Ain't your fault. She moved like a shadow."

"Unnatural. Not a 'she' even, more like an 'it.'"

Ley jammed her elbow into his ribs and darted her eyes at Fara.

"It's okay," the vixen responded, though the mask disguised whether she had been hurt by the words. "He's right."

Delaine bowed his head in apology anyway and said nothing more as he checked his HUD for damage. Gage kept his muzzle shut as well, remembering her request not to be looked after or treated differently.

"We have to move fast," the Dagger captain said, looking at the elevator shaft blur by through the twisted hole. "She'll be after us. And Fara's cover is blown; we have to assume she'll radio the rest of these assholes that there's a Siren imposter. So we lost our edge and they know we're here."

"Now it's really business as usual," Ley uttered.

"They don't know where we're going though. Patrols might be tighter and more aware, but we—"

"Excuse me, sir," Delaine interrupted, his hand at his ear and his face a visage of concentration. "You should hear this."

"What?"

"I ran a diagnostic of my HUD and one of our old comm channels appeared as active. It's faint, probably still affected by the jammer."

"Patch it so we can all hear." Gage frowned in thought as he awaited the signal. The team used a new encrypted channel unaffected by the jammer but they could only get away with that because of the advanced special operations HUDs. If someone else was able to get through – on an old channel no less – it would have to be a similar HUD.

A faint feminine voice soon came through his earpiece, masked by heavy interference and intermittent signal drops. After several seconds of the noise, Gage manually ran a forced team channel synchronization, hoping it would pull in the rogue HUD as well. A luminescent "Scanning…" notification appeared in his eye readout, followed by "Sync in Progress…" and finally, "Sync Complete."

"—eeseburger with pickles but no onions. I hate onions. Is it so much to ask? God, I just want to be home with, like, a bajillion cheeseburgers and no soldiers or guns or killing or stupid…cheap…crap coffee! I'm never leaving the mansion again after all this! Well, maybe to go to the pool. Though that still counts as, like, the mansion grounds I guess…"

Gage cocked an eyebrow; the startled looks of his teammates showed they were hearing the same rambling nonsense. "Kristine? Kristine, if you can hear this, respond."

Following a few moments of stunned silence, Krystal's whispered, half-hysterical voice returned. "Gage? Ohmigod, this stupid thing actually worked? Is it over, Gage? Where are you? Please, please, you have to get me out of—"

"Kristine, calm down. Focus and be clear so I can help you. Why are you using a specops HUD? How the hell did you even get one?"

"I, uh…I found it. You know, that one you lost and asked me to help look for? I found it and I guess I…just wanted to keep it as a little, like, memory of you."

Ley rolled her eyes.

"I'm stuck back in my room," Krystal continued. "There's these big jerks passing by every now and then but I haven't seen any in a while. They just came in and I…heard shooting…and I hid and…oh, God, Gage. What happened?"

"Don't worry about it right now." Gage pictured the aft living quarters layout in his mind and realized that it was near the mess hall, presumably where the jammer had been set up. "Leave the HUD on but keep quiet and stay where you are; we have a stop to make but we'll swing by and get you afterwards."

"You promise?"

"I don't say things I don't mean."

"Just hurry, okay?"

Gage isolated her HUD signal from the rest of the team so she couldn't hear comm chatter and let out a sigh. "Even on deep infiltration missions I can't escape her."

"I'm surprised she lasted this long," Fara commented, fidgeting in the combat suit again.

Ley nodded. "With that giant trap of hers running full steam? I'm shocked we didn't hear her back on the INH."

The captain glanced up at the deck lights and felt the elevator slow upon approaching _14: _crew services and support, including quarters, recreation, and the mess hall. "Ready up. They could be waiting to yell surprise once the doors open."

With weapons loaded and aimed forward, the team hugged the sides of the elevator, two to each side. Once the movement ceased the doors slid open, the bearer of the mangled hole unable to retract fully thanks to the mushroom of warped metal. Their tensed trigger fingers relaxed; only an empty room with three branching corridors awaited them, two dead marines their only reception. Gage poked his head out and furrowed his brow at the emptiness.

"Nothing," he reported, letting his HUD rove for mines or hidden tripwires. "No guards this close to the jammer?"

Delaine kept his sight trained on the long corridor directly ahead of them across the room. "Could be a trap up ahead."

"We'll have to take the risk. Ley, could you kindly make sure the elevator stays where we can see it?" Gage took a few cautious steps into the waiting room and knelt, ensuring each corridor to be empty before signaling for the others to join him. Once they were clear, Ley put a burst from her submachine gun into the button panel and jammed the door open with her knife for good measure.

"Done, boss," she said, joining her team.

"Fall in. Fara, I want you between them in the middle. Keep those triggers warm; everyone weapons free."

-

* * *

_0003 hours Vanguard local time  
_

-

_"I'm afraid the insert name here's shields have dropped to fifteen percent, sir. The probability of destruction if current course remains set has activated my self-preservation emotional response mechanism designed to evoke sympathy and convey the urgency of the predicament to sentient organic beings. Please stand by…Oh, dear God, we're gonna die! Response ended."_

A turret sparked and exploded under a barrage of twin lasers from Fox's Arwing as he pulled away from the Vanguard and evaded the other guns that had begun tracking him. He shook his head in exasperation at Robin and heard Falco sigh into his own comm.

_"I hope old man Toad releases a patch for her soon,"_ the avian grumbled.

Fox crossed the laser-filled no man's land between Starfox's mothership and the Vanguard and wheeled around for another pass. "The perils of being a beta tester. At least she's handling the ship great. Robin, how close are we to recovery equilibrium?"

_"Estimates show that if incoming fire is reduced by ten percent, the insert name here's shield regeneration will outpace damage received."_

"You heard the lady, Falco, keep on those turrets. Starfox to Husky; Bill, what's going on?"

_"This is Grey. Everything's A-okay here, buddy. Marine ships are in the hangar and my squadron's returning to bail your asses out of the fire."_

Fox fired up the boosters and braved the onslaught of red death once more, knuckles aching and arms weary from so many passes that required his utmost concentration. _Combat Zen…combat Zen…you're the wind...intangible…unbreakable…_

The Arwing strafed the next turret and chewed it into scrap before the energy reserves blew, blowing the remains into space.

_And very lethal._

Falco followed his commander's lead and swooped into an attack run on a bank of turrets near the mid-section hangar. Too busy dodging to pay attention to the run, Fox noticed the status display of Falco's Arwing on his ship computer blink red followed by a string of curses assaulting his ear. "Falco, report."

_"Fucking bullshit! Piece of shit cheap-ass coward—"_

"It's a brainless turret, Falco. Cool it and report!"

_"Would it be cliché to say my damn G-Diffuser is malfunctioning?"_

Fox looped back into the fray to see if there was any way he could assist his wingman; the other Arwing limped through the lasers, surviving only by the stubborn skill of its pilot. "Pull back to the INH and see if the onboard systems can fix it. If not, dock."

_"Damn it!" _Bill's shout replaced Falco's in the fox's ear, angry then tempered by sorrow. _"Three's down. No ejection. Husky Three's down. This is turning into a real bad day; we were ambushed by seven fighters from the rear hangar. I've got a tally on four heading for you, Fox. Me and Two will handle the rest."_

"Copy," Fox replied, his tone equally doleful. He knew all too well about losing teammates. "Robin, we have to deal with those fighters. With these turrets still gunning for me I'll need your help. What do you say we even the score and give the INH's weapons a little test run?"

_"The weapons have already been tested at Toad Development Enterprises, passing all trials with excellent—"_

"Robin, shut up and arm the main cannon."

_"This is Falco. I've got onboard systems rerouting power now. I'll be back to greet these assholes in a few minutes."_

Fox took a deep breath and dabbed sweat from his brow. He stretched his arms as best he could in the cramped cockpit and rolled his head to crack his neck, preparing for another stretch of combat. He found himself wishing the rest of his team was out there with him; he always felt safer with Peppy's fatherly voice in his ear and Slippy awkwardly covering his back. Not even the war managed to keep the team separated, yet Dianus killed one and drove the other to protect his endangered family.

Dianus…his own mother…

Robin's voice broke him from his thoughts. _"Cannon set to anti-fighter tracking and targeting. I've never served in combat before, sir. I hope I perform up to the standards of my comically inferior predecessor."_

"ROB was pretty good at the trigger. Just make sure you shoot at the right targets, okay?" Fox's scan display lit up with enemy proximity; four bandits as Bill had claimed. "Stay ready. I'll lure them into range, you fire at will."

_"Acknowledged."_

The four Venomian fighters made a beeline for him, the dogfight with Husky far behind them against the backdrop of the battle-scarred Vanguard. They weren't typical Venomian fodder either, but Sand Spider fighters, up there in armor and firepower with Bill's Katinian ships. Gritting his teeth, Fox hit the thrusters and shot right at them, forcing their skirmish formation to break. He didn't bother shooting but rather concentrated on giving them a false sense of domination, luring them where he wanted them to go without them knowing they were being dragged along. One fighter remained glued to his tail as if he got his nose stuck up the Arwing's engine, refusing to be thrown for a loop. The three others broke off and made passes from the side, hoping to catch their prey in a pincer movement.

Smart. But not smart enough.

The galaxy erupted in a blinding flash of light, searing Fox's eyes and sending him into a fit of blinking to clear his vision. The trail of the energy burst from the INH's main gun lingered like a haunting shadow of its own power.

_"Oh! Oh, my! That man exploded rather brilliantly, wouldn't you say, sir? My first combat performance is quite impressive, if I may risk sounding presumptuous."_

"Yeah, yeah, brilliant." The Arwing jolted as it took a pounding from the Sand Spider chasing it. "You still got three more."

_"Tracking now, sir. Emotional response activated."_

"That's really not necess—"

_"Eat it, scum-sucker!"_

Another yellow blast from the main cannon tore through the fighter trying to flank Fox at his starboard, the energy practically vaporizing it. The two surviving fighters broke off their pursuit and tried to make a run for it out of the INH's range.

_"That's right, go crying back to mommy, shitheads! Response ended. I'm afraid the two remaining targets have fled the cannon's range, sir. Most disappointing, my apologies."_

"You were fine, Robin. Crazy, but fine. I'll get after them."

_"Man," _Falco breathed,_ "is she hot or what? Why are all the good chicks synthetic?"_

"Stow it, Falco. Hurry up with the repairs and get back here."

Fox upped the throttle to max and chased after the fleeing Sand Spiders, well aware they were attempting to turn the tables by leading him back to the remaining Vanguard turrets. Once the guns opened up on him, they split up and he was forced to choose one or the other. Confident he could finish one off before the other could stick itself to his rear again, he pursed the one to the left and followed it as it streaked so close to the Vanguard hull they both had to dodge outcroppings and gun barrels.

The fancy flying couldn't save him; Fox caught up in a matter of seconds and loosed a burst of twin lasers that blew off half the thruster block and sent the ship careening into the hull.

As he pulled away from the explosion and gained some distance, his display flashed with a proximity alert. "What the…"

Enemy lasers pounded the Arwing from behind and rattled Fox's aching head. He growled at himself for underestimating the pilot too hastily; obviously, Dianus had taken a "quality over quantity" approach to Venom's air force, unlike Andross. Part of him welcomed the challenge while the other part became all too aware of his depleting shield, ravaged by the drawn-out battle.

"This is Fox. Got a stubborn little bastard here, anyone near me who can—?"

The Arwing shook again, but from an explosion rather than another attack. The proximity alert dropped from Fox's screen and he looped around to see a fellow Arwing dart around the debris that had once been the last Sand Spider. He let out a relieved breath and turned toward the INH.

"Thanks, Falco. I guess you're useful to keep around after all. The area's clear."

_"Eh? What are you talking about? Oh damn it, is the fight over already?"_

"You got that last one, isn't that enough?"

_"Are you sniffing fumes or something? I'm still back behind the INH repairing. I didn't shoot anything."_

Fox blinked. "Starfox to Husky. Bill, where are you?"

_"Situation's handled. We're done here, on our way back now."_

It wasn't Bill. No…of course not. An Arwing shot down the last Sand Spider, no doubt about it. No mistaking the vessel he spent half his life in. "Robin, did you read any other friendlies out here. Peppy drop in, did he?"

_"No, sir. The bridge battlefield display shows that your pursuer was destroyed by an unknown force. Scans did not pick up any life form."_

Fox shook his head. _The ghost Arwing. _Though he already knew it to be futile, he turned around and searched for the Arwing and found nothing. No ion trails, no scan signature, nothing. Might as well have been a figment of his imagination.

Maybe it was.

Fox swallowed and refocused on the situation at hand. "Starfox to all elements. Packages have been delivered safely and the INH is stable. Fall back to recharge and repair. We have to be ready in case they try to retreat out the rear hangar…assuming Dagger's still alive and completes their mission."

Falco scoffed. _"The real war's out here. Something tells me they got the easy part of this operation."_

_-_

_

* * *

-  
_

"Shit!" Gage snapped.

Ley looked up from where she knelt at the mess hall double doors, her snake cam filament subtly inserted underneath to scout the room. The feed had been patched through to each Dagger soldier's HUD and they watched as the leopardess maneuvered the filament to catch each corner of the room. Their faces fell in unison.

"I suppose we found our why we haven't encountered anyone since the elevator," Delaine said. "They were warned about us. They know patrols can't stand up to us. So they hunkered in."

Gage shook his head. "We don't have the position or maneuverability for this. And we definitely don't have the time to gain them; you can bet the Siren's not cowering somewhere. She'll be on our asses eventually."

"What is it?" Fara asked behind them, in the dark without a Dagger HUD.

The captain kept his eye on the feed and related as best he could what he saw. "The jammer's sitting on a table in the middle of the mess hall, looks like a big gray box with an integrated terminal. I see eleven hostiles and they built a damn fort of tables surrounding the jammer. IFF's picking up Vanguard personnel, four of them standing near the jammer between us and the bad guys. Hostages…living shields. Worst of all, they have remote trigger mines right by the door here and at certain spots near the jammer. If we get close, one of those maniacs is gonna blow the whole room."

Ley strummed her fingers on her knee and mused, "Can't cut the lights from here, can't access ventilation. We can blow open the door and assault as normal but we'd have to have a dozen miracles stocked up to not hit any hostages _and_ cap whichever soldier's holding the mine trigger switch."

Gage nodded. "Given the situation, the hostages are an acceptable risk. But if that bastard activates the mines, it's game over for _all_ the hostages and us…and the jammer, at least."

"That's comforting," Ley grumbled.

Fara sighed, the sound resembling a throaty growl through the distortion of her mask. "If they weren't on the lookout for me, I could just walk right in. Someone needs to ID the soldier with the mine switch."

"That'd be nice, but wishes ain't going to help us." The leopardess pulled the filament from the door and tucked the cam into her vest pouch. "What do we do now, boss?"

Gage raised his brow at a sudden thought but held his tongue, stunned that he even dared to think it could work. But each second mattered and, as he learned a long time before, there were no stupid ideas on the battlefield, so long as they got the job done. "Fara's right; we need an inside man." He paused. "Or woman."

Ley and Delaine shared a glance and realization crept into their faces. Delaine pursed his lips and looked down at his rifle while the female sergeant, as ever, proved more vocal.

"Much as I'd love to rid the galaxy of another empty-headed pop star, this might not be the best way. She'll screw up and get both her and the hostages killed. That's even if she agrees to do it, which she'll never do. An arrogant, spoiled brat jumping into the fire to help us?"

Gage acknowledged his teammate's opinion with a nod and glanced at Delaine.

"I'll follow anything you say, sir," the wolf offered reluctantly. "But…no, I don't think someone like her is capable of such selflessness. She won't do it."

Gage leaned against the wall and stared with distant eyes at the far wall. Though he thought he knew her, he couldn't be sure whether she could be trusted with such a task. Moreover, he felt guilty even thinking about asking her to do something so dangerous, something she was never prepared for. But he didn't need to be reminded of the unpleasant aspects of his job. The mission needed to be completed, period.

As reached for his HUD to reconnect to her comm, he remembered talking with her what seemed like ages ago and allowed himself to believe that she would do it.

"Kristine? Kristine, can you hear me? It's Gage."

_"Oh, Gage, thank God. Are you near me yet?"_

Gage swallowed on a dry throat. "Kristine, I need to ask you something and it's not easy for me. I may need your help."

_"Help? Me? What could you need from me?"_

"A jammer in the mess hall near your quarters needs to be destroyed. The problem is the bad guys have hostages and remote explosives set up. One of those soldiers has a switch that he'd keep in close reach, probably pinned to his belt or vest, but we can't see it from here. A round silver disc with a red button, or something similar."

A brief silence. _"What…but…what do you want me to do?"_

"Your HUD has an IFF signature that has the user show up as a teammate. I need you to…" He hesitated. "I need you to surrender to the soldiers in the mess hall. They'll most likely keep you as a hostage there for the time being. Leave your HUD on, hidden somewhere on yourself where they won't frisk, and do exactly what they say. We'll be watching you from here. Take your time, look around, and point out which soldier has the trigger. Then once you hear us blow the door, hit the deck and stay there."

Gage had gone through the plan as quickly as he could, hoping she wouldn't interrupt with denials. But she remained surprisingly silent, so much so that he wondered if she flat out cut off the link.

_"Gage…" _she replied at last._ "I can't believe you're asking me to do this. Do you even hear yourself? What if they just shoot me when I walk in there? That's a possibility, right?"_

"Kristine—"

_"You were the first person to ever be honest with me! So be honest now too!"_

"Yes, that's a possibility. It's a possibility that they may find the HUD. It's a possibility that they'll spot you pointing out the triggerman and shoot you. It's a possibility we may all blow up. But people's lives are at stake, Kristine. The entire ship is at stake. You can help us protect these people. Isn't that what you said you truly wanted to do? Something that matters? This matters."

Another stretch of silence ensued, followed by Krystal's barely audible whisper. _"I'm sorry, Gage. I can't."_

Her link blinked off from Gage's HUD display and the fox cursed and bowed his head. His team looked no happier that they had been correct in their assumptions.

"For what it's worth," Fara said, "I really thought she'd do it."

"So did I," Gage uttered. "Ley, prepare a breaching charge. We have to take this room, no matter the cost."

-

* * *

-

"What a jerk!"

Krystal ripped the HUD from her ear and slapped it down on her mattress. The nerve! She sat there desperately talking into the comm for so long and finally got a hold of the one man who could help her only to be called back and asked to march to her death! A deep growl rumbling in her throat, Krystal stood and paced the small room, still cautious to keep the noise down. Arms crossed over her chest, she held herself tight to keep from trembling.

How could Gage ask her to do such a thing? After all they'd been through, the friendship she thought they forged, he goes and tries to put people's lives on her shoulders! She was pretty much a hostage herself and he treats her like some kind of soldier-in-waiting!

"What a stupid jerk," she murmured.

The trembling and aching pit in her stomach refused to subside. The silver diva walked to the sink and decided to risk running a little water; she hadn't heard footsteps in a long time and she'd be able to hear them coming from a ways away anyhow. She splashed some cold water on her face and dried off with a handtowel, the fabric rustling her fur as she shook.

Why was she shaking like this? Why did she feel like she was going to hurl? She already said no; Gage would be by to get her after he was done, end of story.

_If he's still alive._

Of course he would be. Gage was a pro. He'd make it out okay.

_And the hostages? The same people who were cheering and waving during the crew performances?_

That's soldiers' business. They do their thing, she does hers.

_Then why did Gage ask for help?_

Krystal lowered the towel and her downcast eyes caught a glimpse of the empty blue dye cans in her trash receptacle. How scared she had been to be aboard the ship when Gage first rescued her. How scared she had been when she heard she'd have to stay aboard the locked-down Vanguard. How scared she had been when she first considered washing off the blue dye forever. Always fear when she wore the blue dye, always the victim. For the first time in her life, as simply silver-furred Kristine, she thought she could be something more.

She finally realized the trembling and nausea were trademarks of blue Krystal, signs of her fear and snotty outlook, selfishness masquerading as anger. She raised her eyes away from the dye cans but found it even harder to look at herself in the mirror over the sink. Her own eyes pierced her and she spoke again, this time at herself rather than Gage.

"What a jerk."

-

* * *

-

Dagger flanked the mess hall double doors, the air around them heavy with premonition. Gage heard his own breathing in his ears as he kept his eyes on the small breaching charge stuck on the split between the doors. Once that charge went off, Dagger would be free to do what they did best but the situation left a bad taste in his mouth. Too many variables, hostages in the line of fire…he never liked the feeling before a battle he knew would be costly. Whether it was a hostage, one of his own teammates, or himself, he knew the taking of the mess hall would have its price.

But the mission had to get done. He knew it and his team knew it. And soon enough, the enemy would know it.

The captain raised three fingers to count down the charge; his teammates held their breath.

Two…

One…

"Hold! Hold!" Gage spread his fingers to cut the order. "Stand down!"

Ley and Delaine let out tense breaths and backed away from the door.

"Ley, give us visual. I heard some kind of knocking; I think someone's coming through the door at the other end."

The leopardess knelt at the door once more and slid the cam filament into the room. Within seconds, the feed flickered onto Gage's HUD but it offered nothing new with the makeshift barricade and jammer blocking his line of sight to the door at the far end of the mess hall. With a grunt of frustration, he ordered, "Audio."

"On the way." Ley lifted another micro-amplification filament from her vest and slid it next to the camera under the door, giving audible life to the scene that played out on their HUDs. Footsteps…the rustle of movement…the metallic shift of weapons being moved…then a rough male voice.

"Code phrase?"

Someone responded from the other side of the far door but the filament couldn't pick it up clearly enough. Gage groaned and wondered if his day was about to get worse. Reinforcements? More hostages to use as shields? As he pondered the idea of hitting them at that moment when they were busy, the male voice spoke again with a phrase that made him wrinkle his brow in confusion.

"Weapons ready. Shoot to kill if you see a gun."

The hydraulic whisk of the doors opening…

"Jeez! God! I said I was alone, don't shoot!"

Gage's eyes flew wide and his teammates gave him glances of surprise. Even in the midst of the precarious circumstances, he couldn't help a little grin that came to his muzzle for a brief moment. "Good girl."

"Well I'll be damned," Ley murmured as she eased the camera wire around. "We've got her on IFF."

"Watch for her signal."

The luminescent outline of Krystal's body, thanks to the IFF signature on her HUD, showed faintly through the obstacles in their way. Dagger watched as the figure stepped inside, hands over her head and fidgeted as the sound of rough patting came through the audio. Frisking…Gage held his breath, praying she had the good sense to hide the HUD somewhere they wouldn't immediately check.

"Hey!" Krystal shrieked as the blue-outlined figure slapped something away from her breasts "Watch the hands, perve!"

"Shut up and hold still!"

Ley shot a glance up at Gage and said, "I can only think of a couple other places she hid it. Either way, let's get it cleaned before we use it again, huh?"

Delaine grunted. "Or sell it online to one of her fanboys and retire."

Luckily, the inspection stopped there and the soldiers escorted her behind the table barricade. Her hands were pulled behind her back and secured with poly-plastic zip-ties like the other hostages, judging from the sharp ratcheting that came through the audio filament.

"Who are you?!" barked the male voice that had been commanding the others all along.

"I'm…is that a joke? You don't recognize me? Oh, come on, don't you ever watch the vidscreen? Krystal!"

Gage smacked his forehead as his teammates groaned and shook their heads. "Is she stupid? Now every eye in the room's gonna be stuck to her."

"Well, how about that," the Venomian replied. "The briefing said you might be here. Ain't you supposed to be blue?"

"I ran out up here in this tub. What, you think the navy's got it lying around?"

The room came to life with mutters and rumbles of conversation from the other enemies in the room as they craned their necks and stepped to the sides to catch a glimpse of the superstar. Some gestured to their comrades to come look and shared chortles as they ogled her head-to-toe. Even the hostages in front of the jammer dared subtle looks to see what was going on.

Gage kept his eye on the outline of her body and in addition to the normal shifts of stance and natural movements, he noticed her head turning back and forth, looking over each enemy as they did so in turn. "She's able to see every hostile in there. Huh…wonder if she drew their attention on purpose so she could inspect them."

His leopardess teammate shook her head. "She may have more guts than I first thought, but that's giving her brain too much credit."

"They're gonna love this upstairs," the soldier said. "Command, this is point beta reporting acquisition of a high-value target: Krystal…yes, sir, she was hiding out and finally surrendered…yes, sir…I understand, sir. Point beta out."

Krystal's outline stumbled around the jammer, pulled roughly to the side of the barricade nearest to Dagger where the other hostages stood. Finally, Gage could see the woman herself rather than just the blue aura. Though her eyes were wide with subdued fear, she seemed to be in control of herself and her glances lingered on the door she knew her allies to be behind. The commanding voice also earned a face to go with it: a hound in a brown officer's uniform sporting a cold, rigid face.

"You." The hound pointed to a lizard in street clothes, presumably a hired mercenary. "Wait at the door for a security detail from Command. They're coming to get her and throw her to those psychos in Hellion for their little surprise."

The lizard took a hesitant step toward – fortunately – the far mess hall door. "You mean…they're going to kill her? Kill _Krystal? _That ain't right. My niece is kind of a fan…"

Krystal's voice overlapped his, her fear probably no act. "You can't give me to those monsters! I did what you wanted, I cooperated—!"

"Shut up, both of you! Lady Dianus wants all priority targets eliminated, no excuses, no exceptions. Now do as you're ordered or your contract is out the fucking airlock! And you…" He stuck a finger in Krystal's face. "You better just stand there good and quiet or I'll have you begging for death."

Krystal cowered and her chest rose and fell with frightened breaths but she said nothing, her haughty attitude gone. The officer walked away, leaving her amongst her fellow hostages.

"Steady, steady," Gage whispered to her, his gut churning at the mention of Hellion. He didn't bother imagining what they'd do to her; he'd never let it come to that. "We have to get her out of there."

Delaine grimaced. "She hasn't ID'd the triggerman yet."

"We're out of time. We've got more of these bastards on the way, not to mention one pissed off Siren looking for us, and Starfox waiting for us to open communications. And there's no way in hell Ares and Eris are getting their claws on her."

Fara folded her arms and huffed. "I wish I could see what the hell's going on so I can help."

"We're just waiting on Krystal now." Gage glanced at his watch. "I'll give her two minutes to make an ID, then we have to make our move."

"Look at her, she's shaking like a Titanian earthquake," Ley reported with a sigh. "You really think she'll risk pointing someone out? She's done."

"She came this far. We owe her the two minutes."

The impatient captain's eye remained glued to the feed, studying Krystal's every miniscule movement for indication. Her head continued to twist and turn slowly, carefully, searching for the trigger. As the seconds crawled by, Gage began to lose hope and dreaded assaulting the room; her presence only made the job worse, adding another hostage and one he happened to be friends with. But just as he was about to give the order to stack up once more, Krystal's head jerked suddenly to the side.

"What was that?" Ley mused. "Did anyone else see that? Was she pointing at someone?"

Gage narrowed his eyes. "I don't know. Could've been just an ear itch or—"

Her head twitched to her left again, twice in rapid succession. As if to make sure she was being clear enough, the IFF outline of her lower body visible through the overturned tables told the same story: she raised her left foot and shook it to her left.

"That's our signal," Gage said, relieved. "Which soldier?"

"I, uh…" Delaine pursed his lips and studied his feed with intense focus. "I don't think she's pointing to an enemy; the closest one to her left is halfway around the jammer. I think she's gesturing at the hostage."

They all watched as Krystal glanced over her shoulders to make sure no one was paying attention then gave them as clear an indication as they could want: she wriggled her bound wrists to her side and pointed with both index fingers at the lupine hostage to her left. Not behind him, not further to the side, but square at the hostage.

"Sounds like a Venomian tactic alright," Gage muttered. "They're using a sleeper."

"What?" Fara asked.

"They stuck a Cornerian uniform on one of their own and gave him the detonator. We mistake him for a hostage, we secure the room and 'rescue' him and pat each other on the backs, and…boom. He's our target."

Ley licked her lips and looked at her captain. "Sir, are we seriously going to shoot an assumed hostage based on the word of –?"

"Yes, sergeant, we are. We're out of time and we need to take this room. I have no trouble believing Venom would use a sleeper and I'm willing to take the risk. Stack up."

Gage took his position to the right of the door while Delaine fell in behind Ley on the other side, with Fara a step behind the captain to provide clean-up after the team did their work. The leopardess hesitated and hid a scowl, obviously disdainful about the plan and putting their trust in Krystal, but she kept her objections to herself and took her place, her discontent expression gone in an instant and replaced by combat focus.

"I'll take the sleeper," Gage said. "Ley, sweep left to right. Del, you're on hostage protection. Shoot anyone who raises a gun to them; the way they're using them as shields, it'll be close. Make sure each shot finds its mark."

"Always, sir."

"Fara, once the room's clear move to the other door and watch for the enemy reinf—"

"Stop your squirming, miss high-and-mighty!"

Though Ley had cut the video feed, she hadn't yet pulled the audio filament from the door and it caught the hound officer's sharp reprimand.

"I have an itch and I—hey!"

Gage couldn't see what had happened but he guessed the officer struck her or jostled her in some way. Whatever the action had been, a light clattering sound followed it. The fox's stomach tightened; he already knew what had happened before his earpiece reported it.

"What is this? What the hell is this!? Are you spying on us with this HUD you stupid little bitch?!"

"No! No...I just…"

A quick _shoosh_ interrupted her pleas; Gage had heard the sound enough to recognize a pistol being pulled from its holster.

"_NO!_"

Gage's heart leaped to his throat. "Blow it! Now!"

Ley hit the trigger and the universe went silent for a split second before erupting into chaos.

The double doors blew inward with a loud burst and a flash of light and smoke. Dagger emerged from the gray cloud like vengeful phantoms and unleashed hell on the startled mess hall garrison. The first burst fired ripped the sleeper's head in two and sent him to the ground like a felled redwood, hopefully neutralizing the explosive threat. The team worked the room with expert precision, lasers flying only one way for the first few seconds. After Ley had cleared the left side of the mess hall, she ejected her energy mag and slapped in a fresh one before the spent metal even hit the ground. Delaine stood at the doorway, holosight to his eye, and took single shots that singed the fur on the hostages' faces on the way to their targets. If anyone else had been firing, it would have been dangerous for the captives.

Gage swept right to left after the sleeper had been taken down and kept moving forward around the jammer, weathering the first hail of return fire by rolling to the side and rising to a kneel. Before they could bead him again, he loosed a string of rounds that took down the lizard merc and forced the three remaining enemies to seek cover. Ley broke her attack and literally tackled the hostages to bring them to the floor out of the line of fire.

Just as Gage took a step forward to try and flank the last three, who had taken cover behind an overturned vending machine near the far exit, the doors near the Venomians opened and three more of their comrades joined the fray, firing from the corridor.

"Damn it," Gage cursed as he ducked behind the table barricade; they hadn't been fast enough to beat the detail sent to retrieve Krystal. "Who's got a shot?!"

Delaine answered by putting a laser into the skull of an enemy who popped around the doorframe to fire, but that caused the others to focus on him and force him down behind cover.

"Boss!"

Ley, pinned with the hostages near the jammer inside the barricade, lobbed a primed grenade over the tables to her captain. Gage easily took the cue; he caught it, leaned around the barricade, and whipped it at the hunkered enemies. It bounced off the wall near the door with a sharp crack and fell just behind the overturned vending machine. The resulting explosion pounded Gage's ears and filled the air with smoke and sparks from the ruined machine, along with a fine mist of blood that hovered for a few seconds near the door.

Gage expected to hear the retreating boots of the last two hostiles but instead only silence followed the grenade's bellow. He stood and rounded the barricade, rifle shouldered and stance hunched, ready to fire if they were ballsy enough to stay and fight. But a dark shadow became visible in the doorway as the smoke wafted and cleared, two fresh corpses at its feet. He caught the outline of a Siren's wrist blade retracting just as the metallic resonance echoed through the mess hall, and the woman herself came toward them, the black cloak causing the smoke to billow away. Gage's first instinct was to fire but a quick glance over his shoulder showed no Fara. He relaxed the trigger but kept a wary eye.

"It's me, Gage," the Siren said, apparently noticing his suspicion. She raised her left arm and ran her finger along the very subtle slit where the knife killed the Nyx Siren.

"Sorry." The fox let out a breath. "Just didn't expect you to get over there so fast. You're starting to get the hang of combat."

"Yeah…" Her voice trailed off and she looked away, more worried than glad about her developing skills. "I'm starting to really act like…well, a Siren."

Before Gage could reply, Ley stood, coughing from the smoke and looked around the battered room. "Nice moves, boss. First that knife on the Nyx now the grenade…we should get a casino stage show going. If I tossed a dagger or grenade to Del over there, he'd just fumble it and kill himself."

Delaine had already slung his rifle and was cutting the bonds off one of the hostages with a knife. "I don't need knives…or grenades."

"Fara, secure the door and keep an eye out." Gage vaulted over the barricade and checked the "hostage" he killed while Ley and Delaine untied the three dazed crewmen and helped them to the side of the mess hall where they could sit down. Sure enough, a round silver detonator hung from the belt at his rear, easily in reach of his bound hands.

"Well, Kristine," he said with a grin, rising and turning toward the hostages. "You were right. We really owe…" His face fell when he saw Delaine with the three crewmen…no Krystal.

"Boss!"

Gage followed Ley's voice to the other side of the jammer and found her kneeling beside the silver-furred woman, her yellow shit and denim jacket wet with blood. She stared at the ceiling and breathed in shallow rasps, sweat glistening on her face. As the vulpine captain knelt as well, her eyes focused and she swiveled her head to look at him, the hints of a small grin pulling at her muzzle.

"Give me some good news, sergeant," he said through gritted teeth.

Ley ripped the torn fabric of the jacket and short at Krystal's left shoulder and ripped her field aid kit from her vest. She cleaned blood away from the wound and nodded. "She took one under the collarbone. Lucky. Two inches south and she'd be dead. Doesn't look like any internal bleeding; messy hit, but I can stabilize it for now. We just have to get her hooked up to some blood once our guys get through and she'll be fine…assuming that happens within the next couple hours. Looks like she's in a bit of shock from the pain; nothing major. She's just probably never felt anything like this before." The leopardess sighed and shook her head as she spread gel on the wound. "Makes me nostalgic for my first time."

Gage stroked Krystal's forehead and wiped away her sweat. "Kristine? You're going to be fine. And you know it's the truth because it's me. Just hang in there, okay?"

Krystal swallowed and trembled a bit as Ley applied the bandage. "Did it work? Is everyone okay?"

"Everyone's fine. You did an amazing job. I'm proud of you."

She grinned again and blinked with heavy eyelids. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. We're still friends, right?"

"Of course. Just relax for now, okay? We'll talk later."

"Oh. Okay."

Gage rose and left her in the capable hands of his teammate. He allowed himself to finally release the tension of the assault with a long, smoke-ridden exhale. While he reloaded his weapon and stepped toward the jammer to disable it, his eye caught Fara's…or at least her mask lenses. She stood just inside the mess hall by the door and met his eyes when she noticed him looking at her.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," the fox replied, averting his eyes to prevent any emotion from becoming obvious. "Just wish you hadn't bolted ahead like that to kill the last two."

"Gage—"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't need me looking after you."

Fara hesitated. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, I just want to help. It's actually kind of charming."

A stifled snort interrupted their conversation from the floor where Ley continued to work on her patient.

Gage shot her a glare. "Do you have a problem with my charm, sergeant?"

"Just some smoke in my throat, sir."

The Dagger captain turned his attention back to Fara and took a half-step toward the terminal for the jammer, but he stopped dead cold when his eyes fell on the vixen. He blinked, expecting at first that the gray tinge bathing the room had affected his vision, but the sight remained.

His blood froze.

She swept into the room right behind the oblivious Fara, whose eyes still lingered on the man she loved. The ghostly black form made not a sound, but even with her face hidden behind the mask she emanated pure hate and venom. In a deft, flowing motion, she raised her pistol as Gage brought his rifle to bear.

And Fara, confused and stiff at the sudden aggressive action, stood directly between them.

-

**_-Part 2 Coming (very) Soon-_**


	26. Hellion Land

[Author's Note: Well, that was a bit more than two or three days, but isn't it funny how things get in the way the second you publicly say you'll have something ready by a certain date? In any case, I hope the second part of chapter 19 proves to be worth the wait. This update jumps right in where the last segment ended, so you may want to take a glance at the previous few paragraphs to help reconnect. Thanks for reading as always and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 19, Pt. 2  
Hellion Land  
_LDC Vanguard, aft mess hall  
Continued...  
_

_-  
_

Fara's masked head tilted in confusion as Gage pointed his rifle at her, his own face tight with surprise and fear. The vixen hadn't seen or heard the Siren approach her from behind, hadn't even felt the rush of air as her biological twin raised her SEC-29 to exact her vengeance. But she was aware of the one face in the galaxy she did trust, the one staring at her in terror, and she knew the rifle was not intended for her.

Her muscles tensed in realization.

Fara threw her head back into a handspring just as the Siren fired, the laser skimming her arched torso and impacting against the side of the jammer by Gage. Finishing her handspring, her legs caught the shooter's wrist between them and she twisted, forcing the Siren to drop the gun and fall to the deck. The angered Siren recovered with blinding speed and leapt at her enemy just as Fara brought her own Sec-29 to bear, only to have it knocked halfway across the mess hall by a roundhouse kick that connected with enough force to break her wrist if it hadn't been for her bracer.

With mutual growls of rage, the two vixens lashed out at each other with strikes and crushing kicks that Gage couldn't even attach a single coherent discipline to; more like an amalgam of styles tailored to counter and strike depending on the enemy's weaknesses. He blinked at the blindingly-fast melee, the sights on his rifle bouncing from target to target. In the tornado of combat and billowing cloaks, he had entirely lost track of which woman to shoot. The very subtle rip in the cloth of Fara's suit would be unnoticeable in the chaos.

A high spinning kick caught – Fara? The Siren? – in the face and kept her on the defensive, warding off blows until she ducked and lashed her leg around at the attacker's knees, dropping her to the floor for only a fraction of a second until she sprung from her shoulders back to her feet and lunged forth again. With the eerie mirror-match proving ineffective, one of the vixens flicked her wrist blade into action with a light _shick _and drove it at her enemy's chest, her wrist caught by the would-be victim and held at bay with a trembling struggle.

Gage blinked. Of course…the siren's wrist blade was shot off in the elevator. The one with the blade had to be Fara. That's why the Siren hadn't even attempted to use it.

The Siren seemed to be all too aware; just as Gage aimed at her to fire, she stopped struggling and pulled Fara down with her to the ground, her fingertips working the clasps of the threatening bracer. They disappeared under the black cloaks and struggled against each other before one of them planted her foot on the other's chest and shoved her away. As the obscuring cloaks parted, Gage sighted again on one…then the other…then pursed his lips in dismay upon noticing both bracers rolling away on the floor between the vixens. The woman on the floor leapt back up and the two Sirens stared at each other with bare right hands and wrists.

Gage caught movement in his peripheral vision as his teammates came up beside him, their weapons raised. He waved his hand and shouted, "No! Hold your fire!" With the real enemy having been rid of the only thing they could to identify Fara, he could only stand by and watch, helpless.

"Gage!"

"Gage!"

Both masks looked at him, two identical voices calling for him.

"Gage, it's me! Shoot the bitch!"

"What?! You're the bitch! Shoot her, Gage!"

The Dagger captain swallowed and looked at each one in turn, trying to find something, anything, to determine who his enemy was and who was the woman he loved. He could barely tell which one spoke their own words, much less who could be telling the truth.

"Gage, you know it's me. We met on Macbeth when you rescued me and we—"

"Shut up! Everyone knows about Macbeth, Gage, obviously Dianus—"

"She's just trying to confuse you!"

"Go to hell!"

Gage tried to think of something to ask that only Fara would know but the two vixens sprung back into combat before he could think of anything. What could he ask that Dianus or her spies could never know about? One of the women seemed to obtain the advantage; she ducked a punch as she stepped forward and shot her head up, slamming the underside of her enemy's muzzle and sending her reeling back. A flurry of punches to the body doubled the already-dazed vixen over and left her open for a whirling elbow to the face that dropped her to her knees. The dominating combatant stepped around her foe and clamped her arm around her throat in a crushing choke hold, pulling her to her feet while she could only cough and gasp and claw at the oppressing arm.

"Gage!" the restrained Siren hacked. "Please!"

"It's okay, Gage, I got her. Let me finish her off."

The victorious Siren moved her hand to the opposite side of her captive's head, presumably preparing to twist and snap her neck. Gage's mind raced; his finger tightened on the trigger but he couldn't figure out what to do. He beaded on the victorious Siren's leg, intending to shoot her and stop her from killing the other one, but if he did he realized he'd give the other a huge advantage if she turned out to be the enemy.

"Stop!" Gage shouted in desperation. "Don't kill her!"

"I have to! You know how dangerous these freaks are and I can't hold her much longer!"

"Don't do it!" He prayed she'd listen because his finger had frozen; he doubted he'd ever be able to pull the trigger if there was even the slightest doubt.

"She's slipping! Just trust me, please!"

"Gage…" The weakened Siren choked the name out once more but Gage saw that she had stopped struggling. Instead her hand had slid under the other vixen's arm, under the lower flap of her own mask. She pulled at something, struggled to free it, something under her combat suit. She fought with the last bit of her strength as her enemy tightened her hand against her forehead.

But Gage needed only the smallest glimpse and she gave him just that.

His face hard once again with confidence, the fox shouldered his rifle and fired a single laser through the dominating Siren's head, splattering the far wall with blood and dropping her to the ground with only a thud of impact. All remained still and silent in the room, save the survivor's labored breathing. She leaned forward on her hands and knees, head bowed and chest heaving. The bright mess hall lights caught the metal of the old dogtags dangling from the chain around her neck, the gift Gage had given her when they first kissed in the TDE station cell.

Gage rushed to kneel by Fara's side and pulled her toward him, their chests and rapid heartbeats meeting as he wrapped his arms around her. He let her breathe as much as she needed.

"I'm sorry," the fox whispered.

Fara coughed again and glanced at his eyes. "For what?"

Gage blinked, at a loss for an answer. He knew he had to be certain before pulling the trigger and Fara seemed to know that as well, despite how close she'd come to death. Part of him felt like he should have known who the real Fara was all along. "Just wish I could've helped sooner. But if I had been the one to shoot you by accident…if I killed you…I don't know what I'd do next."

The vixen narrowed his eyes at him and brushed the fur under his left ear with her bare hand. "Don't you ever even think that. Not ever. You think I'd want that?"

Gage averted his eyes, her caring words and gentle touch alarming him more than a warehouse full of bloodthirsty Sirens. He had worked so hard to lower his shield, to allow her in where he swore he'd never allow anyone in to hurt or abandon him again. The kiss they stole in private at the TDE station had been a start, something exciting that he never thought he'd feel. Ever since then he thought and debated and argued with himself over what it could have meant, until just hours ago when they talked aboard Starfox's ship. Even knowing what she was didn't dampen how he felt about her and he allowed the shield to lower a little more, even uttered the dreaded L-word he hadn't said to anyone since kissing his mother goodbye to go to Basic Training.

But now he wondered if he'd ever truly be able to drop the shield all the way and just be with her without worrying for her or recoiling at the uncomfortable, utterly foreign concept of love and concern that invaded the world he had made his own: the world of a devoted soldier. He was a soldier first, then a man, a fox, a lover, a friend. Always a soldier first, always the job. But that wasn't enough anymore. He had tasted what it was to be cared for again, and to care for someone else from the heart without condition, and though it frightened him in a way he hadn't felt since he was a greenhorn, he found himself wanting to let it in more and more.

"You okay?" Fara dared a small grin and winced at a painful swallow. "You look like you're the one with the crushed larynx."

Gage grinned back, glad for the opportunity to change the subject. "Yeah, just surprised you actually wear these old things."

"I haven't taken them off since you gave them to me. I feel safe with them."

"Guess I'm not all bad at giving gifts."

Ley cleared her throat from the table barricade where she stood with Delaine at the jammer. "'Scuse me, casanova, but the terminal's locked down hard with layered passwords. It'd take an hour to crack it, and that's if we had a skilled techie like Tien with us."

Gage met Fara's eyes once more before standing and turning away, his mindset returning to the job at hand. "Have you tried Dagger's password?"

"Hmm…let me punch that in here and see if it works." Ley stepped back from the jammer, brought her slung submachine gun to the fore, and loosed a long burst of lasers that tore the front of the jammer to pieces in a cascade of sparks and flying circuitry. A fresh cloud of acrid smoke wafted to the ceiling. "Yup, I think the little bastard accepted it."

Gage brought his hand to his earpiece and set his comm options to display on the HUD. Sure enough, each Navy channel that had been programmed in to work with the Vanguard ground teams came back online, including tertiary links to Starfox and Husky. He cycled through and activated them one by one.

"This is Captain Gage Birse of Dagger to Vanguard bridge. Please acknowledge this transmission. Repeat, this is Captain Gage Birse of Dagger to Vanguard bridge. Please acknowledge—"

_"Captain Birse? Oh, thank God. This is Vanguard bridge. The jamming system's been taken down then?"_

"That's correct." Gage furrowed his brow. "Please identify. I was expecting Admiral McGarret."

_"This is Lieutenant McCullen of the 3__rd__ Marines, sir. I'm in command of the marine force that invaded along with your team."_

Gage relaxed; he only met the man in the final briefing and hadn't recognized the voice right away. "That's right, I remember. Give me a SITREP, lieutenant."

_"All friendly areas have remained secure with no enemy conflict. We have four squads guarding the orbital cannon control room and they've reported no activity. I've set up drone turrets and a dozen patrols to guard every possible route the enemy could take to attack."_

"We've got them on the defensive for now. Remain alert and prepare to retake the ship."

_"My men and I would love nothing more than to kick Venomian ass back to that shithole they call a planet, but the main pressure doors that separate us from the aft quadrant have been locked and sealed from the other side. It's almost like they never had any intention of taking the ship or even the orbital cannon control station. More like they were trying to keep us out of their fur."_

Gage's brow wrinkled again and he glanced at his team, who offered him equally confused looks. "Stand by, lieutenant. Captain Birse to Starfox. You guys still kicking out there?"

_"This is McCloud. 'Bout damn time; what, you didn't think we were cutting it close enough?"_

"Sorry you had to work for your money for once. Fox, is anyone leaving the aft hangar? Are the bad guys trying to retreat?"

_"Uh…no, both scan and visual show no activity. Still some turrets sniffing around down there though and the Hellraiser hasn't moved."_

Gage spoke his thoughts aloud to the mess hall. "Why would they invade the ship just to lock themselves back here? What was Dianus after? She wouldn't pull this whole stunt just to let Hellion off their leashes for a bit." He shook his head; just speaking their name made him eager to continue the mission. "Hellion's our next target. Birse to bridge: I need any information the crew may have on Hellion's activity since the ship was attacked. Any demands? Threats? Knowing them, they couldn't resist speaking up."

_"Well…yes, sir. One short message before the jammer went up. All they said was they'd be in touch once the real entertainment had arrived."_

"Put Admiral McGarret on the line. I need to know anything that can help, anything about—"

_"Sir...he's not here. When we landed, his aide reported that the admiral was in the aft hangar to greet the new marines when the shit hit the fan."_

Gage grimaced as Ley bowed her head and Delaine traced a subtle sign of the Cross on his heart. Could the admiral really be dead? A ship like the Vanguard needed a man at the helm with a spirit equally titanic and McGarret had long-since proven his command. For such a soldier's life to be terminated by this trash…

"He may still be alive," Gage said, his voice betraying a doleful tinge. "He's in command of the Venomian theater of operations, Dianus will probably want him for—"

_"No, no, no…no, I'm afraid she doesn't want him for anything. Dianus already got what she came for. The rest of you are all just sacks of blood waiting to be pricked."_

Gage's blood froze. The last time he heard Ares' voice was in his nightmare and it chilled him just the same. But the voice hadn't emitted from his headset; he turned to see the vidscreen on the wall opposite the jammer flicker to life. Usually it just showed the muted news or a sports channel for the off-duty crewmen during meal time. The screen itself had taken a laser in its lower left corner during the fight, causing a spider-web crack to crawl toward the center, but the picture still came in clear despite the small wound. Gage almost wished the laser had finished the job so he didn't have to look at the tigers' demonic faces.

"Hellion," he growled through clenched teeth.

_"Gagey!" _Eris, wrapped an arm around her nearby brother's shoulder and hopped up and down in excitement. Over her dirty cargo pants and brown shirt she wore a Cornerian marine's BDU top, the right half crusted with dried blood around a blast hole. _"Didn't I tell you, brother? We didn't have to search every room. As soon as the jammer went down I said, 'That's gotta be good ol' Gagey and his Dagger heroes crashing the party. Fire up the screen and let's say howdy!'"_

_"Right you were, sister." _Ares, flaunting similar disrespect with a seared marine helmet lopsided on his head, gave a mock salute. _"Long time no see, Dagger. Aw, only three of you still? Your chums back on Corneria must be getting restless. Oh well…they'll probably be thankful they got snubbed from this party once your mangled corpses are shipped home. Oh, but we have a newcomer! Fara, is it? Dianus' wayward little pet? We've been hoping you'd show up also."_

"You're not getting out of this one," Gage snarled. His teeth ached from the gritting that he couldn't seem to stop, fueled by the hatred bubbling up toward his throat. "We're retaking the ship and your hangar's being blockaded. Surrender now and maybe I won't find an excuse to blow your heads into confetti."

_"Confetti! You hear that, sister? Now he's getting into the party mood!"_

_"But he's being mean to us, brother. Come on, Dagger-guys, don't be poopers. We went through a lot of trouble here."_

_"I know!" _Ares clapped his sibling on the back, his hand crunching against the blood-caked BDU top. _"Let's start off with a party game. Everyone likes games. How about I Spy?"_

_"Your funeral, brother! You know how good I am at this." _Eris rushed toward the screen on their end, her insane grin larger than Gage would've ever wanted to see it, and turned it with a jarring pull so it showed a different part of the room. When she backed away, Gage recognized enough of her surroundings to sink his heart even lower. Metal reinforced crates and racks lined the walls of the large room, easily double the size of the mess hall, and two grav-conveyer lines ran through the center and disappeared through two gateways in the wall behind the twins. Loading lifts sat dormant beside the racks and crane arms jutted from the ceiling, powered down.

"Arms storage," Gage muttered. He didn't have to look closer at the gray containers to know that they held energy capacitors and plasma bearings, or missiles and shaped explosives; the orange warning paint on their sides stared back at him, threatened him.

But the contents of the room concerned him less than the people tied to them. A number of crewmen – six, Gage counted at a glance, with more probably off-screen – stood shoulder to shoulder behind the twins, their hands behind them, presumably bound or cuffed to the sturdy racks. They remained still but alive, their chests rising and falling and their heads bowed or lolling, trapped in darkness with blindfolds.

_"You know how to play I Spy, don't you, Birse?" _Ares taunted._ "Our version is a bit more fun than those boring games, like pin the tail on the donkey."_

_"Until we changed it to pin the live grenade on the hostage," _Eris giggled.

_"Ha! You do know how to enjoy the good times, sister. But let's give our friends here a chance. Ready? I spy with my little eye…something that begins with C."_

_"Oh! Oh!" _Eris pointed at the camera. _"Chumps!"_

Her brother laughed and shook his head. _"You're not wrong, but that's not it."_

_"Cutie?" _She winked at Gage.

_"Now, now, sister, let's give our guests a chance." _Ares moseyed back to the hostages, his sister in tow, and stepped from one to the other with the nonchalance of a man perusing a museum. The crewmen shrank back in fear as he passed them. _"What do you say, heroes?"_

"I don't know about you, boss," Ley said, her fiery eyes burning holes in the vidscreen. "But all I see are two dead scumbags."

_"Judges?" _Ares cupped his hand around his ear. _"Ding ding!_ _The young woman far too sexy to be a soldier is correct! Well, close enough anyway, she's got the right theme. The answer we're looking for is…"_

The tiger hopped to the next hostage in line, roughly grabbed his downcast muzzle, and lifted his weary, pain-laden eyes to the camera. Admiral McGarret bared his teeth against a strip of cloth that bound his muzzle shut and struggled against him to no avail. The proud old wolf had been stripped of his officer's coat, trickles of blood from his beaten face staining his gray fur and the top of his white t-shirt. Despite his defiance, he looked ready to fall over; a lesser man of his age would have long since.

_"…corpse!" _Ares finished after taking a moment to grin at his prisoner. _"We also would've accepted carcass or cadaver. See, I've seen this movie already, Birse. Us over here with our party guests, you over there fashionably late. We all know how it'll end. The old man's already dead, along with the rest of these stooges. Dianus wanted a few people taken care of and she's letting us make an event out of it. Sort of a…reenactment. Hmm…this all seems rather familiar all of a sudden, doesn't it, sister?"_

_"You know, brother…" _Eris stroked McGarret's face, wincing back when he bucked at her. With a grin, she licked his blood from her fingers. _"I think it's all coming back to me."_

Gage frowned deeper, his eyes glued to the Vanguard's commander. He fought to dismiss his own hopeless fears for the admiral's life but it became harder with the twins' implication. "Artemis Thirteen."

_"Ahhh…" _The edges of Ares' muzzle turned up in a cold grin, his eyes alive with ruthless delight like a hungry serpent waiting to strike. _"I knew you wouldn't forget our first meeting. You were all there, you all failed. But especially you, Birse. Those captain's ranks on your sleeve are mighty heavy, aren't they? And they get heavier with each drop of blood they soak from those you let down."_

Gage forced a scoff through his tight throat. "You think your little taunts are getting to me?"

_"Oh, yes. Definitely."_

_"Oh, you boys and your egos!" _Eris rolled her eyes. _"Gagey, we thought you'd be happy with this! We're gonna give you a chance to win this time. We have fourteen hostages, just like Artemis Thirteen. They're all alive this time, too. _All_ of them. No dead guy with an explosive jawbreaker."_

The twins shared a high-pitched maniacal laugh.

_"It's very simple," _her brother continued. _"We're leaving soon and when we do, this room gets blown to hell along with whatever poor sap is left in it. We've got just one bomb, right here next to the old man. It's a doozie though. If it goes boom in here with all this ammo, a rather impressive chunk of the Vanguard would just vaporize. And it can only be shut down with this." _He pulled gray trigger-switch about the size of a pistol clip from his rear pocket. _"It'll be here waiting for you. All you have to do is get to it in time."_

"Bullshit." Gage narrowed his eyes. "You always have a sick plan behind everything. What is it this time?"

Eris folded her arms in mock disappointment. _"He found us out, brother."_

_"He's a smart cookie, sister. Well it was meant to be a surprise, leave it to you Dagger stiffs to take the fun out of it. This ship has all kinds of goodies back here, Birse, and we just couldn't help but set up a few more party games while we waited for you to get here. We hope you like what we've done with the place."_

Eris nodded. _"But that's all we're telling you!"_

_"What do you say, Birse? You still think you military types can ever win in Hellion's world? You're all just toys to be played with and discarded. Why not shoot yourselves in the head and save time?"_

"You'll never get away from me," Gage growled. "I'll find you no matter where you go, no matter what insane obstacles you throw at me."

_"Insane?" _Ares laughed and walked toward the camera. _"The only thing that separates a madman from a genius is whether he wins. Come get us…captain."_

The camera switched off under his hand.

The mess hall remained still for a few moments, Ares' voice lingering like a haunting whisper. Gage turned and faced his teammates, their stone soldier's demeanors not as solid as five minutes before.

"It's a trap, obviously," Ley stated. "Just like Artemis Thirteen. God only knows what these 'party games' they set up are supposed to be."

Delaine nodded. "Whatever else they've done, they don't intend to leave anyone alive."

The captain inhaled through his nose and dispelled the anger, the emotion that had no place in a tactical situation. "We have to find out what Dianus' goons are doing back there but this bomb takes priority. Starfox can blockade the hangar." He paused. "We were lucky on Artemis Thirteen, if you can call it that. We all know what Hellion's capable of. But Admiral McGarret and thirteen other crewmen are still alive over there and it's our job to get them out. Nothing's changed."

"No, sir.

"Not at all, boss."

Gage expected nothing less from his teammates. He pointed at the freed crewmen sitting at a mess table. "Fara, give those men some weapons to hold this room with. Then I want you to head back and open the pressure doors from this side to let our guys through. Get a medic to Kristine immediately and let McCullen and the marines do their thing. Then escort another medical team to the arms storage room. We may need them."

"Wait, why can't I come with you? I can help."

"You can help me by doing this."

Fara opened her mouth to object again but stopped and gave a resigned nod. She seemed to sense by the fox's eyes that arguing would be a losing battle. "Be careful. Please."

With a reluctant nod of his own, he turned away.

Fara couldn't part with that. She couldn't let him march away to an impossible mission with nothing but a phrase and a subdued gesture. She ripped off her mask, let it fall to the ground, and chased after him. When he turned at the noise, he was met with a tight embrace and her muzzle to his, her warmth awash over him. He raised his gloves to her sweat-matted face and returned the kiss, savoring it in the deathly face of the time that lay before him.

Fara eased away from him and frowned, not wanting to let him out of her sight. "I mean it. Be careful."

"Doesn't go with the job. You know that."

"I know." She swallowed. "Just come back in one piece then."

"That I can do."

He backed out of her arms with a last squeeze of her forearm, hefted up his rifle, and turned to leave the mess hall with his team. Fara, Krystal, and every shot fired up until then were immediately dismissed once the mess hall had been left behind. Dagger moved in silence, their focus firmly ahead of them.

Yet even so, the ghosts of Artemis Thirteen never lagged too far behind.

-

* * *

-

"What the… Fox's console screen blared to life as a red anomaly appeared at the outer reaches of his scan range. "Robin, you picking this up?"

_"Indeed, sir. The insert name here has a tally on a single vessel that exited hyper-jump at minimum safe distance to the rear of the Vanguard. Its transponder signal identifies it as a Venomian Argus carrier by the name of Atlas Eleven."_

_"Huh," _Falco grunted over the comm._ "She's not even trying to hide anymore. It's like she's already at full-scale war."_

Fox frowned and clicked his teeth in thought. First a batch of Sand Spiders that flew with more discipline than any pirate, then a war-era carrier? He hadn't seen an Argus since the last day of the war and they were too big to hide from the allied forces' clean-up crews. Definitely too high-maintenance for pirates or mercs. "Falco, form up and let's go check it out. Husky, stay close."

After receiving affirmatives, he patched his comm through to Dagger's channel. "Starfox to Dagger. Gage, you read?"

_"Not a good time, Fox."_

"I'll make it quick. Have you seen any straight-up Venomian soldiers? Forget mercs and pirates, I mean Venomian grunts."

_"Yeah, we pegged a few. What's the big deal? I'm sure a bunch of remnant fanatics stuck around with Dianus after the war. We were cleaning them up for months after Andross went down."_

"We just ran into an Argus out here, probably sent to cover a retreat. Where the hell's she been keeping that, not to mention its crew? Where's she getting this damn army? What—"

_"Fox, the questions can wait! You can't let anyone escape the hangar! Dagger's moving to secure hostages and Hellion might try to make a run for it."_

"Turrets are still making things dicey and this carrier won't be a pushover. Make your move fast, we're stretched thin out here. Out."

As if on cue, the half-dozen remaining aft starboard turrets opened fire once Starfox and Husky flew into range. At a safe distance, the simplest evasive maneuvers made the lasers little more than annoyances…but the carrier wasn't staying at a safe distance. The Argus had approached the rear of the Vanguard to protect the Venom-controlled hangar, holding course at only a few miles away from the Hellraiser.

_"Husky's gotcha covered, Fox," _Bill reassured

Fox couldn't help but grin a little in nostalgia at the sight of the ugly carrier. In typical Venomian efficiency-over-style, the gunmetal-gray ship looked like an elongated Great Fox without the neck-and-head bridge or wings, and a more prominent fighter launch bay. His grin quickly drooped as six fighters shot forth from the bay and eased into a wedge formation before making a beeline for their enemies. His nerves eased a little as he glanced at them in turn and saw no Sand Spiders. Just the usual Venomian tin cans that were churned out of Andross' facilities with little thought given to their pilots' lives.

"Engage at will. Bill, you and Husky handle the fighters while me and Falco whittle down the carrier. Watch the crossfire from those turrets."

_"You got it, bud."_

As the Husky fighters broke off, Fox boosted and met the Argus' own barrage of anti-fighter lasers head on, weaving through them with mastered precision. He strafed the side of the ship, weakening its shields, while Falco attacked the other side and forced the guns to split targets. The old rhythm of taking down a carrier started to creep back into his blood, though he had always done it with full squadron of four Arwings. He glanced at Falco's status readout on his screen to make sure the repairs continued to hold up and U-turned back for another pass.

_"Second launch," _Falco reported._ "Six more fighters. Starting to miss Slippy…was always his job to draw their fire. At least he was good at that."_

"Bill, status."

_"Three bogeys down, tally on six more. Really getting hairy with the turrets in on the action."_

_"Sir," _Robin's voice crackled in his ear._ "The Vanguard bridge reports that with their communications back online, they'll be able to scramble fighters from the mid and fore hangars in the next three minutes."_

Fox cursed under his breath. "We don't have three minutes." He shook his head, a desperate plan forming in his mind. Before he could think better of it, he said, "Husky, listen up. Falco will launch a smart bomb at the carrier; it won't take the shields down but the damage spike will cause it to fluctuate for five seconds, max, before they're back up. I need you to run interference on their guns."

_"We'll do what we can, bud, but these little bastards won't make it easy. What can you do in five seconds?"_

"That's all I need, trust me. Falco, you're up; we'll move on your launch."

The avian sighed. _"I hate to waste a bomb on shields. This better be worth it."_

Fox took up position behind Falco and the two vectored in on the front of the Argus. Out the right side of his canopy, he caught the skillful flying of Husky as they tried to give the enemy fighters the slip to set up for their run on the carrier. The fox sucked a deep breath through his nose and let it out his mouth; he flexed his hand before gripping the stick once more and closed his eyes for a few seconds to blot out the battle around him. The years since the war had left him rustier than he would've liked with quick jobs and no large-scale tests; he hoped he still had the right stuff to take down capital ships.

_"Stand by," _Falco said as he cut low closer to the Argus. As if just to rattle the crew, he launched his bomb straight at the bridge and pulled away as it exploded in a burst of blinding white and blue light.

_"Husky, on me. Attack pattern delta, go now!"_

"Here we go," Fox muttered to himself. He followed Falco's run but swooped lower, passing under the front of the Argus on a collision course for the bottom hangar. Bill and his wingmen cut under the carrier from the right in a stagger formation, their lasers pounding the underside chassis and forcing the belly guns to target them, leaving Fox an uninterrupted, steady run.

He held his breath and manually targeted the maw of the hangar before him, six more fighters already lined up and ready to launch.

_Steady…_

"Open wide, assholes."

He launched his smart bomb down the launch bay's gullet, the shudder of its release shaking him loose from his focus. He pulled away just in time to avoid smacking into the hangar himself and waited, the final moment before impact dragging. With his tail to the Argus, he didn't see it but the feel of the explosion, much too forceful for just a bomb on the shields, brought a grin to his face as it washed over the Arwing.

Fox looped back to watch his handiwork and saw a mess of debris and orange-and-blue flame erupt from the underside of the Argus before being snuffed out by the vacuum of space. The hangar had all but disappeared from the bombing, leaving a smoking black hole in the carrier. The Argus itself veered and yawed from its wound and the pressure breach but remained mostly intact.

_"Sweet!" _Bill whooped._ "Nice shot, man, gave it a steel boot to the jewels."_

"Good work, everyone. Close call. Husky, reengage the fighters. Starfox will put the Argus out of its misery."

_"Why couldn't I take that shot while you wasted your bomb on the damn shields?" _Falco whined, angrily pounding the Argus with his twin lasers while spinning through its still-active AA barrages.

"Captain's privilege," Fox grinned. "Besides, you couldn't make that shot if you were three feet away."

_"What?! I could've done it in _two_ seconds, screw the—"_

Robin's voice cut him off. _"Pardon my interruption of your lively debate, sirs, but the insert name here has picked up more enemy vessels jumping into the engagement zone. Of particular concern is a Trident-class long-range missile delivery ship. Scans also detect vessel movement from within the LDC Vanguard's aft hangar. I believe the enemy is coordinating a retreat."_

"No shit," Fox muttered. "Venom always used Tridents as distractions to split up fighter groups in the war. If they launch, we have to intercept those missiles. Robin, where's our backup?"

_"Vanguard fighters will be joining you imminently, sir."_

"Falco, we have to go take out that Trident before it launches. Bill, can you hold here with the Vanguard reinforcements?"

_"Our fighters have taken a beating. It all depends what they send our way, but we'll give it our all."_

Fox opened up the link to Dagger's channel again. "Starfox to Dagger. Gage, they sent in reinforcements to cover their retreat. We don't have air superiority for an effective blockade. Do you copy? Did you find Hellion yet?"

-

* * *

-

Dagger breezed around the corner and Gage pointed at the double doors ahead of them. Ley and Delaine hurried ahead and flattened against the wall beside the rightmost door while he took the left.

"Not yet," the captain replied into his comm. He hesitated, every angry nerve of his trying to stop him from continuing, but he spoke anyway. Emotion had no place on the battlefield. "Dianus is the bigger threat, target her ships first if they to retreat. We can't let her leave with whatever she came here for. Take out Hellion if you can."

_"Roger. We'll do our best. Out."_

Gage cut the link and uttered, "Damn it!" under his breath.

"We'll just have to get 'em ourselves, boss," Ley said.

"The cowards are probably already gone. Doesn't matter right now, we need to get those hostages out." Gage looked up and around the frame of the double doors. "And it looks they're rolling out the red carpet."

Spray-painted in red above the doors and bracketed by crude smiley-faces were the words _Welcome to Hellion Land!_

The pressure door left no gaps for optic filaments so Ley had to make do with a basic HUD scan for explosive traces. She shook her head at a negative sign.

With a last deep breath, Gage hit the control panel and the doors opened with a _whoosh._

Before them lay a long, wide tunnel-like corridor for ammunition transport and delivery, the corridor itself over a hundred meters in length and segmented by a blast door in the center. Gage remembered the area from his tour of the ship; the sides of the corridor were lined with separate access doors leading to loading bays for the anti-capital cannons.

The overhead lights flickered, some of them shot out for no apparent reason other than to darken the corridor. Gage activated his HUD's light amplification and gasped at the scene it illuminated.

Each doorway, four on each side between them and the closed blast door far ahead, was filled a ghostly shadow. The light-amp showed them to be bodies of Cornerian soldiers, hanging limply by thin wire nooses around their necks tied to the bolts of the doorframe. The wires had long since cut deeply into the necks, bathing the bodies in the blood that flowed down to the floor. Tacky smears and stains painted most of the floor, leading Gage to believe they had already been injured or beaten when they were left to die, left…

_On display._

More red spray paint graffitied the walls in random shapes and twisted smiley faces, nightmares of insane minds. Delaine performed the sign of the cross on himself and bowed his head.

Gage swallowed another surge of rage at the macabre welcome the twins had set up. "I don't think God'll help us here, Del."

"I pray to God for the dead, sir. The evil behind this is for us to confront…and destroy."

"Fine with me," Ley growled under her breath.

Gage cautiously led the way into the wide corridor, the team's boots creating sucking sounds on the sticky floor. He let his eyes linger on each body as they passed, both to make absolutely sure they were dead and to check for any traps. With each step he focused on his breathing to keep his heart rate steady; no way would he let the twins rattle him with their sick little haunted house.

_But anything could pop out at any time…anything could happen…a bomb, a mine, a tripwire…deception…just like Artemis Thirteen…_

Gage shook his head, shook the voice away, and angrily chided himself. For a moment he was back on the Artemis Thirteen station, obliviously walking the sleek metal hallways into his greatest defeat as a captain. But he wouldn't let the twins' shit distract him.

Not a chance.

Determination forged on his face, he traversed the corridor segment and halted his team at the first blast door. Locked; two red lights in the middle gently pulsed. Spray painted arrows pointed off to the right, toward a normal-sized door beside its bigger brother. A glance at the biohazard symbol above it and Gage knew its purpose: a decontamination chamber in case of biological or radioactive leakage from the weapons.

"If Hellion's pointing us there, I don't think we can expect smooth sailing," Ley observed.

Gage skirted up beside the door and inspected its edges for wires or explosives. "We don't have a choice. Charges and cutters wouldn't scratch that blast door and they would've changed the access code. Get ready."

Gage activated the door and thrust his rifle in before him, sights immediately beading on a lone figure in the middle of the bright white-panel passageway. His finger eased on the trigger. A young gray lynx in a rumpled marine uniform stood trembling, his hands bound behind him and a fist-sized explosive hanging around his neck like a deadly pendant. He flinched in surprise at the sight of Dagger but only stared at them with wide, terrified eyes.

"Soldier," Gage said in as soothing a voice as he could muster. "Relax and tell me what you're doing here."

"Th-th-they…" The lynx swallowed and tried again. "They said if I moved the bomb would go off. That…that I'd blink and wake up in hell."

"Motion trigger," Ley uttered to her captain.

Gage nodded. "Without Tien, you're our next best explosives man. Can you disarm it?"

"I've done it thirty times in test settings. Guess it's about time I had a field exam."

The fox nodded and stepped back around the wall with Delaine.

Ley placed her submachine gun on the ground and entered the short, tight hallway with tender steps. As she approached the booby-trapped soldier, she met his eyes and raised a finger for him to focus on. "Look at me, marine. I want you to stand perfectly still. Bend your knees so you don't pass out and concentrate on breathing. Pick a spot on the ceiling just above the door and stare at it. You got all that?"

"Yeah…yeah, I got it."

Ley cracked her knuckles and gingerly lifted the device away from his chest a few centimeters. She wedged her pinky underneath and felt around its backside. "You got a girl back home?"

"Uh…no. I did, but…I'm gone all the time."

"Well, now you got a story to tell to hook another one." The leopardess felt upward, inspecting the contacts where the wire around his neck met the casing. "But I'll tell you what, you can say you saved my life. Makes it sound a little more impressive."

"Heh…okay."

"You still looking at that spot?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. And don't call me ma'am." Ley furrowed her brow in confusion and felt around for the cutoff switch behind the casing. "That's odd…"

The lynx blinked. "What is?"

With a carefree flick of her wrist, Ley flipped the device up and let it smack against the lynx's chest. No explosion, no beeping, not even a puff of smoke. "It's nothing, empty. No explosives set in the mechanism. Just another Hellion bullshit distraction."

"You mean that's it?"

Ley clapped him on the shoulder and turned to give the all-clear to her team but a sudden noise interrupted her as if awakened by her sudden normal movements. Her ears perked and she looked up; something seemed to be crawling behind the ceiling, sliding around with metal-on-metal friction…sliding toward the circular grate over her head where the decontamination mist would billow down into the chamber. A silver orb the size of a golf ball fell in front of her muzzle to the floor.

"Get back!"

As she screamed the warning, she grabbed the lynx by the lapels and threw him around herself out of the chamber door behind her. She moved to follow but the sound of a click from beneath her told her it was too late. In a desperate maneuver, she leaped straight up and shot her feet out to her sides, bracing herself against the tight chamber walls with only the grooved grip of her boot bottoms against the smooth panels holding her aloft.

Over a dozen more silver balls rained down around her, spreading about the chamber floor. Within a second, each had sprouted thin flexible legs the same as the first one and meandered about, sensors racing with a nearly inaudible whir as they searched out biological movement.

"Shit!" Gage cursed as he snatched the stunned lynx and pulled him back to a safe distance away from the chamber. "APX-Sevens."

Delaine grimaced and murmured the nickname for the spider mines more well-known by the soldiers. "Silver Widows."

The fox pointed behind him and gave the former hostage a starting push. "Get back to the entrance and wait for our guys. Go!"

The lynx shot a concerned look toward the trapped leopardess but finally followed the order.

With his attention back on his teammate, Gage found the situation worse than he thought. The spider mines patrolled the decontamination chamber with Ley wedged only a few feet above them. But he caught sight of another mine that had apparently fallen from the grate directly onto the leopardess, for it had sprouted its legs and proceeded to climb around her shoulders and back. If she so much as twitched…

"Ley, keep still!" he called out, realizing how obvious it sounded. "We'll figure something out!"

She didn't move a muscle, not even to blink or breathe.

"We might be able to go back to the midsection armory for an EMP grenade," Delaine offered.

"She won't last that long. What about a disruptor signal?"

"She has the electronics pack." The wolf frowned in thought and after a moment said, "I could…" He nodded. "Yes, I could."

"What?"

Delaine unslung his marksman rifle and powered up the holosight. Gage caught onto his idea and was about to object, but another glance at the chamber showed Ley's legs beginning to develop a slight quiver from the strain of her position. Anything more could tip off the spider mines.

"Do it," he ordered, hoping the words wouldn't mean his teammate's death.

The sniper knelt and brought the sight to his eye, his body becoming nearly as stone-still as Ley's, save the rhythmic breathing. He flipped the safety off with his thumb and spoke loud enough for his friend to hear. "Erica…ready yourself. You'll know what to do."

As his words echoed into nothing, the tunnel became still.

Delaine squeezed the trigger.

The Widow on Ley's shoulder launched into the air spinning like a gyroscope, two of its legs blown apart by the shot. With only a blink to spare, Ley acted on instinct and half-vaulted, half-fell from her perch, landing on her hands between the spiders mines and using the momentum to continue the handspring forward. As the injured Widow fell to the chamber ground, primed from the assault, the leopardess tucked her head down, rolled out of the chamber, and stayed prone in a tight ball.

The mines on the ground never found their chance to chase their prey.

The explosion engulfed the chamber, setting off each mine in turn in a chain reaction that blew Ley further back and knocked her teammates off their feet in a shockwave of heat.

When the ringing in his ears replaced the barrage of blasts, Gage rose to his feet beside Delaine and waved smoke away from his face. The fire suppression system in the decontamination chamber – or what was left of it – had already kicked in and bathed the flames in gas while fans sucked the smoke away. In the headache-inducing glow of the chamber's flashing red emergency lights, Ley pushed herself to a sitting position with more effort than Gage liked to see. The two men rushed to her and knelt at either side.

"I always did hate spiders," she coughed, resting on her elbow. "Nice shot, Del. Guess we keep you around for something."

The wolf cracked a grin.

"You two alright?"

Gage cocked an eyebrow as he eased her back onto his arm and turned her head over to inspect her in better light. "Us? You were the one with front-row seats." His hand came away wet from the right side of her head; blood marred the light yellow fur. Her right thigh and arm had suffered as well. "Looks like you took some shrapnel. Can you see me okay? Any concussion symptoms?"

Ley groaned. "Oh, please. A little knock to the head." She writhed out of his grip before forcing herself to her knees, then finally to her feet. Reeling back, she took a step to avoid falling over but seemed to regain her balance after that. "Okay, a big knock to the head. I'm fine, though. Just need to walk it off."

"If you say so, sergeant." Gage gave her a once-over but said nothing more; she seemed shaken but not injured in any substantial way. Harder to suppress were the moments of terror that he'd lose another teammate to Hellion. "Fall in; no time for a break."

Ley scooped up her submachine gun and playfully punched Delaine in the shoulder as she passed by, the two sharing a smile.

Leaving Hellion's "party game" behind them, Dagger crept through the warped, hazy decontamination chamber and entered the second segment of the tunnel corridor. As before, the broken lights did little to light the way and the side doors held deathly occupants suspended by wire but the bodies had been contorted, limbs bent or twisted and wired up in forced poses. Gage looked around at the bodies frozen in macabre dance, the bloody floor, the spray painted walls, and swallowed a wave of nausea.

"Sick fucks," he muttered.

_"Help me!"_

The Dagger soldiers dropped to one knee and brought their weapons to bear, sights scanning every corner of the room.

_"Please help!"_

Gage spun to the right and focused on the suspended corpse in the first door, a female coyote, and only an administration clerk judging from her torn, bloody skirt and blouse. Caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. He inched forward until his HUD illuminated something in her open mouth; a quick scan showed no explosive traces.

_"Oh, help me, help…phff…hrpt…ah ha ha ha! I'm sorry, I couldn't hold it in anymore."_

Gage sneered in recognition of Eris' voice as he approached the body and saw that the device was only an audio recorder, probably taken from the woman's own office. The coyote stared with cold, empty eyes as the recorder spoke for her.

Ares' voice took over. _"If you're hearing this, you already lost one hostage and probably a member of your team. So sorry we can't give our condolences in person, but we can still see you. Turn around and say hi!"_

One of the sector's few remaining functional security cameras gazed down at them from above the decontamination room door. Ley flipped it the finger, taunting them that she was still alive.

_"Hope you enjoyed our little funhouse. Welcome to the hall of mirrors! Look anywhere and you'll see your future. But no… you're a tenacious one, aren't you, Birse. You won't just make things easy and go away. Well then, go get the hostages. They're just on the other side of that blast door up ahead. Oh, but…I suppose I should mention one little thing."_

Gage sighed.

_"The deactivation switch for the bomb is hanging on the dear old admiral's belt, spitting distance from the entrance. Simple, right? Well, as of now you have five minutes to reach that switch. As soon as you crack open the blast door, you'll have five seconds. You can cover thirty feet or so in four seconds, can't you? That's all you need to do. Honest! See you soon, pal 'o mine, or little bits of you anyway."_

With a final laugh, the audio recorder switched off.

"They're not telling us something," Delaine said. "For all we know, that trigger on McGarret may set off the bomb itself."

Gage gestured for them to follow and jogged down the tunnel corridor toward the blast door. "There's always something they're not telling us. We have no choice but to assume they're at least telling the truth about the bomb."

"What's stopping them from just blowing the thing manually from the Hellraiser?" Ley asked.

"They could've done that anytime and still killed us and the hostages. They want us to fail on our own. That's all they ever want, to prove us inferior to their tactics."

As Gage expected, the blast door sported two green lights: unlocked. "If the four seconds is tripped as soon as the door opens, I'll have to—"

"You?" Ley folded her arms and tilted her head. "Next to me you're a freight barge, let me—"

"Forget it. After that blow you're not operating at full, the last thing we need is you getting dizzy or buckling in there." The leopardess reluctantly backed down and Gage continued. "The door doesn't exactly zip upward so I'll have to roll underneath and continue from there. If all's as he said it is, it should be no trouble. If it's not…then I won't be surprised. We don't have a lot of time; set up and open it on my mark."

"Yes, sir. Good luck."

"Hope you dropped those holiday pounds, boss."

Gage backed away from the door enough to get a good running start and began unfastening his gear. His rifle clattered to the ground, followed by his vest and thigh holster. Not wanting anything to slow his tactile response, he also decided to toss his gloves onto the pile and had begun to flex his arms to adjust to the newfound weight relief when a voice came over his comm. A friendly voice, for a change.

_"Gage, it's Fara. The marines are retaking the ship without much resistance and I brought the medic you wanted. A whole squad, actually. We just picked up a hostage near the door to…Hellion Land?"_

"Right, we're at the other end of the corridor about to breach arms storage. Get the medic prepped, Ley will need attention and the hostages didn't look in great shape from what we saw on the vidscreen."

_"Okay. Oh, and Gage…friendly fighters went out to support the blockade but Venom's hitting back hard. They don't have the firepower to take out every fleeing ship and the Hellraiser isn't sticking around to fight. Flight command's already given the order to ignore it." _She paused._ "I'm sorry."_

Again they slip through. Again the scum oozes through the cracks. Gage allowed himself a moment of silent disappointment, but only a moment. "There'll be another day. Right know we just have to make sure they don't win, so stand by and keep your fingers crossed."

The fox took a deep breath. Then another.

Then one more for good luck.

His eyes stared unblinking at the door, visualizing the room behind it, seeing his own actions played out in perfection. Muscles taut, he hunched low in preparation and gave a nod toward Delaine at the door controls.

He shoved off, starting with a quick jog and building speed to a full-out sprint. He barely noticed the heavy clanking of the door mechanism echoing in the tunnel; just had to trust it to open. Trust Delaine.

Trust himself.

A countdown of glaring red numbers forced itself into his mind as a crack of bright light showed underneath the door.

_5…_

Gage leaped forward, pulled his right arm in, and landed in a shoulder roll, his leg brushing the underside of the door as he slipped through. Feeling the momentum, urging it to drive him on, he sprung off his heels to his feet and continued his sprint into the arms storage room.

_4…_

McGarret and the hostages stood ahead of him just as Ares had promised but the inevitable hidden ace up the twins' sleeves stood between him and his goal. Gage didn't bother with trying to understand or analyze, he just blinked once and knew that a lizard pirate in soiled clothes and a stolen marine vest stood between him and where he needed to go. The lizard thrust his handgun forward, fiery, determined eyes sighting the shot.

And Gage without his gear.

_3…_

Couldn't stop. Hesitate and die.

Gage let the combat concentration he had built up take him through the obstacle. Never breaking stride, he ducked and the first shot missed high. The incensed lizard fired another wild shot at the quick target then took a swing with the butt of the pistol as the Dagger invader encroached. But the fox saw the move coming in the pirate's eyes before the arm even wound up and he ducked again.

The vest.

_2…_

Close enough smell the pirate's pungent anxiety sweat, Gage's fingers brushed the front of the marine vest until they found the slip-proof grip of the inverted knife in its sheath. He pulled the blade free with more force than necessary, using the momentum to drive him into a pivot that rolled him around the pirate's shoulder to his back. The force rushed to his arm as he flipped the knife around in his fingers, whipped his right hand around, and drove the blade into the back of the lizard's neck.

He didn't need to look back to know he landed his mark.

_1…_

Two more urgent bounds brought Gage to McGarret. He reached for the device on the old wolf's belt and pulled the trigger switch before snatching it from its clasp.

_Game over…_

Gage let out his breath. The bomb at the admiral's feet lay dormant, still intact along with everything else it could have vaporized. As if surprised the twins actually allowed the bomb to be defused, he looked down at the device in his hand and let out a tension-relieving laugh at the halted countdown readout.

_00:00:00.03_

"Hit a little snag?" Ley trotted into the room, Delaine beside her, and glanced down at the dead pirate.

Gage tossed her the trigger device, evoking a snort when she saw how close the detonation had come. He couldn't suppress a wide grin creeping across his muzzle and his team reacted similarly, the same unspoken thought shared between them: they had won. Even with the traps and trials, they beat Hellion with everyone safe in the end. The three bloodied, exhausted soldiers pulled each other close in a three-way huddle and gripped each other on the shoulders.

"That was for Hart," Ley whispered. "The first to fall to Hellion. And the last. Good job here, boss."

"For Hart," Gage echoed.

Delaine bowed his head. "A man of courage to the end."

The few moments of victory were all they needed and all they allowed themselves.

"Delaine, start freeing the hostages," Gage ordered as the team broke the huddle to return to the job at hand. "Ley, make damn sure this bomb is inactive."

The fox went to McGarret and pulled off the old wolf's blindfold and gag before working on the cuffs. The simple locks fell easily to the thin multitool Ley had given him before she went to work on the bomb. Once the cuffs slipped away, the admiral rubbed his bruised wrists and took an unsteady step forward.

"Sir, are you—?"

McGarret jerked away from Gage's offered help and snapped, "Carry on, captain! I'm not a goddamn old fart who needs a nurse and a walker."

Gage nodded and let him be, which is what he knew the admiral really wanted after being forced into such an embarrassing circumstance in front of his subordinates. McGarret retrieved his heavy officer's coat from where it lay rumpled beside the rack and put it on over his bloody shirt, not even bothering to wait for a medic to check out his wounds.

Walking tall, he brushed by Gage on his way to help Delaine with the freed hostages and uttered in passing, "Good job, captain. Thank you."

With a light chuckle, the fox moved toward the next hostage to free when Ley stood and rolled the trigger device around in her palm, studying it.

"Boss, something's a little off. I ran a HUD scan check for active electronic signals and while it didn't find anything in the bomb, it picked up a ghost signal from the trigger here."

"Anything we should be worried about?"

Ley bit her lower lip in thought and pried open the device casing with her dagger. Half of the polymer case clattered to the ground along with useless bits the leopardess tossed out until she gingerly picked up a silver wire-laden strip of circuitry between her thumb and forefinger. "And what are you doing in here?"

Gage stepped toward her for a closer look but he didn't recognize the piece. "What is it?"

"It's the signal carrier from a totally separate trigger. I'm not as good as Tien with these things, but if I know my stuff…when you deactivated the bomb, you activated something else with the same pull of the switch. The twins rigged up two carrier signals in this one device."

A knot formed in Gage's stomach. "But we didn't feel an explosion. The Vanguard's still intact. What did it trigger?"

"Sir!" Delaine called out from down the row of hostages. He jogged back to his captain and then continued, apparently not wanting to alarm the still-bound crewmen. "Sir, one of the hostages is dead. He was dead long before we got here judging from his wounds."

Gage snapped his head up and looked down the row of hostages for a quick head count, an alarming theory entering his mind.

_Thirteen…_

Fourteen counting the one they saved from the spider mines.

But one dead brings it back to thirteen.

"We missed a hostage."

Delaine cocked his brow. "Sir?"

"Hellion made it a point of saying there were fourteen hostages just like Artemis Thirteen, but all of them were alive this time. They stressed it. This dead one doesn't count, there's a fourteenth hostage somewhere else. Whatever this ghost signal does, it's connected to—"

A sharp burst of electronic interference interrupted him and pulled Dagger's eyes toward a portable vidscreen set up on an arms crate by the door. From the angle, Gage saw that it was the same one Hellion had taunted them with earlier in the mess hall. After a short run of static and signal alignment, the twins faces once again appeared, this time with a vast cockpit in the background, undoubtedly the Hellraiser.

_"Time's up!" _Ares proclaimed_. "And you're still there. The whole room is. Huh…I wasn't expecting that. Were you, sister?"_

For once, Eris just frowned at a loss for words. Despite seeing their faces again, Gage enjoyed the genuine disappointment plastered on them.

"Get used to it," the captain replied. "We're coming after you next."

_"And all three of you are still alive. Not bad, Birse. Not bad." _The subdued rage choked Ares' words but in the blink of an eye it seemed to wash away and be replaced by his usual cocky air. _"Well, we had a fun time on the Vanguard in any case. How's the old gang in the storage room there? Everyone bright-eyed and bushy-tailed?"_

"Cut the bullshit. Where's the fourteenth hostage?"

_"He's pretty bright for an army tool, brother. If I were you, Gagey, I'd be more concerned with 'who' than 'where.'"_

Ares smirked. _"Too true, sister. I trust you to find out on your own, Dagger-man. Now then, let me run down my checklist to make sure we did all Dianus wanted us to. Lots of death?"_

_"Check."_

_"Keep Dagger away from the hangar?"_

_"Check."_

_"Mayhem, havoc, screaming, etcetera etcetera."_

_"Double check."_

He tapped his lip and rolled his eyes up in mock thought. _"I can't help but think we missed something."_

_"Oh! Did we use the kill switch Dianus gave us to stop her faulty property from running amok being a naughty little troublemaker?"_

Ares snapped his fingers. _"I knew it. We didn't do that, did we?" _His eyes focused on Gage, bore into him with pure cruel delight. _"Did you, Birse?"_

Their laughs filled the room while Gage could only stand stunned.

_"Dagger won this round, I'll give you that. But _you_, Birse…well, sometimes when you win, you lose, right? We'll see you soon, hero. Enjoy your victory."_

The screen turned to black.

Before anyone could say a word, Gage had taken off, sprinting faster out of the room than he had done to breach it. The dark, nightmarish tunnel blurred around him, the bodies on either side staring at him like grisly marionettes. Slipping through the destroyed decontamination chamber, he spotted people crowded around the entrance to "Hellion Land" and his heart leapt to his throat.

_No…_

The marine squad heard him coming and parted with surprised expressions, except for the medic hunched over her.

Fara lay on the floor quaking, convulsing, her fingers bent into claws of pain as she writhed and choked. Gage fell to his knees and felt within himself the terror on her face, the face he had just kissed not long before, now pale and tensed under the fiery fur. Her glazed eyes stared straight up but she knew Gage was there; her hand latched onto his arm and squeezed with a death grip, begging him for help.

"Fara," he whispered, holding her arm in a desperate attempt at comfort.

"She just…collapsed," the bewildered medic said, as he injected her with a syringe and stuck a monitor receptor to her chest. "I don't know what could…damn it, she's going into cardiac arrest! We need to get her to the nearest med-bay, now!"

"Fara, look at me. Please. Please…"

"Jensen, get her feet. Move it!"

Before they could lift her, the vixen's hand slackened on Gage's arm and her eyes flickered like the dying lights in the tunnel.

Gage squeezed as hard as he could.

"Fara!"

-

_**-Chapter 20 Coming Soon-**_


	27. Choices

[Author's Note: Not much to say this time, so I'll just step aside so you can dive in. Thanks to all reviewers old and new, your feedback and/or support is appreciated. Thanks for reading as always and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 20  
Choices  
_LDC Vanguard, infirmary  
1948 hours_

-

Fox walked into the med-bay waiting room and tried to keep his footsteps light at the sight of Gage sleeping on a white couch, still dressed in his dirty combat jumpsuit, his red fur still marred by smoke soot and flecks of dried blood. The noise of the two normal footsteps had already awoken him; one eye flew open followed by the other and the captain sat bolt upright as if caught doing something he shouldn't.

"Gage," Fox sighed as he fell into the matching chair adjacent the couch. "You really need to rest. Have you even eaten anything?"

The darker fox rubbed sleep from his eyes and cleared his hoarse throat. "Ley brought me some stuff from the mess hall. And I don't need you or anyone else telling me what to do. I already knocked off for a few hours here, that's enough."

"Gage, it's been seventeen hours. The docs said they'll let us know when they have any new information on Fara's condition. You're not doing her any good sitting here like this. Why don't you go take a shower or something, you might feel better."

Gage froze for a moment before lifting his eyes toward his friend, his gaze intense and free of any exhaustion haze. "I gave her a kiss and promised I'd see her again. I left her back so she wouldn't get hurt. The next time I saw her, she looked as if Death himself was ripping her soul out of her chest. And I'm the one who pulled the trigger. You think running some water down my face will make me feel better?"

Fox didn't respond immediately; one didn't remain friends with a Dagger soldier without learning to give them space when they needed it, but he couldn't quit yet, not with the rare intensity of anger and guilt looking back at him. "It wasn't your fault. You beat Hellion at their own game but they had one last trick up their sleeve and there's no way you could've known. It's what they do. An impossible mission."

"It wasn't impossible." Gage looked at the floor ahead of him. "We defused the bomb, saved the hostages, and paved the way for the ship to be retaken. Mission accomplished. Another success under Dagger's belt with…minimum collateral damage." He raised his eyes to his friend again, the pain apparent. "Why'd I let her get so close?"

"There's nothing wrong with loving someone, even in our line of work. We've been friends a long time and I know you better than you think. You've sacrificed a lot for the good of Lylat, you're one of her fiercest protectors, and that gets you a load of respect from me and lots of other people. But under the layers of armor and scars, there's something else you want out of life; something to make Gage happy, not just Captain Birse of Dagger." He shrugged. "I'm still looking for a woman for Fox, not just fame and fortune for Commander McCloud."

Gage nodded slowly. "Maybe that's the impossible mission in our line of work."

Fox opened his muzzle to say that wasn't what he meant but the door to the patient rooms opened and a young brown hare stepped in, wearing a white overcoat over his rumbled dress shirt and a long, weary face every bit as haggard as Gage's. With the wounded and deceased to be seen to, Fox doubted the doctor had gotten any sleep either. He tapped at his translucent datapad with a stylus and glanced around the room.

"Captain Birse?"

Gage sprung to his feet. "What is it? How is she?"

"I'm sorry, who do you—"

"Fara! No last name, came in yesterday with heart failure."

"Oh, yes. The physician assigned to her has been investigating new developments for the past hour but has nothing conclusive yet. However, she is stable for now."

Gage just nodded in relief.

"But I'm here at the behest of another patient, a Kristine Sherwood. She's just woken up from a sedated sleep and asked for you. Admiral McGarret's stopping by as well on his way to inspect the Logistics deck repairs."

"McGarret?" Fox stood as well, curious to see Krystal also after what he had heard of her actions during the battle. "He's got to be up to his neck in problems, why's he coming to see her?"

The doctor shrugged, tired eyes attesting that he probably couldn't have cared less. "I suppose you'll find out. Her room's the third on the left. If you'll excuse me, I have a lot to do."

The two foxes followed the doctor into the sanitary corridor and stopped at door _5 _on their left. The infirmary room glared back at them in blinding white from the floor to the ceiling to the sheets and medical station tables. Only the EKG monitor by her bed offered any color, along with the lambent silver of her fur poking out from the neck of a white hospital gown.

"Hey!" Krystal smiled, her voice and demeanor still slightly subdued from the sedative-induced sleep. She rustled under the sheets, a bulge on her left shoulder under the gown becoming apparent. "Wow, you look worse than I do. Did the showers stop working?"

Gage mustered a grin as he pulled a stool from the medical table and sat beside her bed. "Just haven't got around to it yet. How're you feeling?"

"Like a bad Sunday morning after a long Saturday night. My shoulder's all, like, stiff and itchy. They said it'll be good as new though. What about you? Everything go okay after the whole cafeteria thing?"

His grin faltered but he held it together for her sake. "Yeah, everything went fine."

"What about the hostages in the cafeteria? Are they okay? Did I point out the right bad guy?"

"Yeah, you were right on the money. You did great, Kristine, I meant it when I said I was proud of you. You're not the same woman I brought kicking and screaming onboard."

Krystal giggled with a blush and looked over at Fox, who stood at her other side. "Good to see you again, too. I think we met, like, once and exchanged like two words. But Gage says you're a great guy."

Fox returned the smile. "Well, I just wanted to give my own thumbs-up for yesterday. That took guts."

"Speaking of which," the Dagger captain interjected, "Admiral McGarret's going to pop in soon. I think he just wants to give his own thanks. Delaine delivered a formal debrief this morning and you were a pretty big part of it."

"Oh, they're not gonna make a big deal of this, are they?"

"I don't think so. But what's the difference? You're one of the most popular people in the galaxy with a camera in your face twenty-three hours out of the day. What's wrong with a little applause from the brass?"

Krystal's spirited face fell a bit and her eyes took on a distant depth, though not from the painkillers. She looked at the swell in the sheets where her feet rested for a few moments, then back at Gage. "Ever since you told me that story of how you started out as a soldier, I wondered how you do what you do. How do you do so much work with so much danger and no one ever hears about it or gives you anything in return? That's if, like, I went up on stage but there was no audience and all the cameras were off. But they're nothing alike, are they? What you do matters. And like you said, that's what I wanted to do, something that matters." She paused. "And after all this, I don't care one little bit if anyone ever knows it or not. Is that how you know if you're doing something that matters? If you don't care about your own part in it, just that it gets done no matter what?"

Gage nodded. "That's a good start."

"Well, then I'm glad my braindead publicity agent booked the gig that sent me here to begin with. I have a few stories to tell, a few song ideas, a few changes I want to make to my public image…and I met you. Thanks for being there for me."

"How about you write a song about me and send me all the profits, then we'll call it even."

Krystal giggled. "You don't really want that. But I have something in mind, something you might really appreciate. You'll just have to wait and see what—"

A sharp knock brought their attention to the open doorway where Admiral McGarret stood, his uniform in better shape than when he was rescued and the cut on his forehead mended. He walked in, accompanied by an entourage of a few lieutenants and aides, and waved his hand at Gage in an implied "at ease" before the captain could stand at attention.

"Good afternoon," the wolf said. "The doctor's informed me all's well with your wound, Miss Sherwood. Do you need anything in here?"

"No, no, I'm fine. Thanks."

The admiral cleared his throat. "You have my personal thanks for your part in the retaking of the Vanguard and the rescue of her endangered crew. Captain Birse, as commander of the Army's First SFD, do you swear upon the accuracy of your unit's post-operational report?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then it is my privilege to notify you, Kristine Sherwood, that I've recommended you for the Cornerian Navy Distinguished Civilian Service Medal for bravery and selflessness above and beyond the duty of a citizen. Your courage under pressure ensured the safety of military personnel including hostages and the soldiers of Dagger, and brought about a swifter, safer incursion into hostile territory. The Cornerian Navy and the Lylat Defense Coalition thank you. Though the recommendation has yet to be approved, let me be the first to say congratulations."

Krystal could only blink at the admiral's outstretched hand, her mouth agape. Finally, she took it and shook. "Uh…thank you. I don't really know what to say."

"No words necessary, Miss Sherwood. In fact, I'm only able to stay for a second as it is; I have a number of areas to inspect and a briefing to prepare. I just wanted to deliver the news personally Rest up, okay? Captain Birse, Mister McCloud, if I can see you in the hall, please."

McGarret retreated back through the door, aides in tow, while Fox gave Krystal a goodbye pat on the arm and followed.

"Looks like people will know about what happened after all," Gage said, sliding the stool back to the medical table.

Krystal still seemed surprised at the award, though the lightheaded after-effect of her sleep didn't help. "I don't know what that all meant. Do I really deserve it?"

"Definitely." He leaned over to pat her the same way Fox had but Krystal sat up and hugged him with her good arm.

"I'm lucky to have you as friend," she said, still squeezing him. "But Fara's the real lucky one. She's a great gal. Don't let her go, okay?"

Gage was glad she held him close enough so she couldn't see his face. "Never."

"Send her in when she's free, I'd like to see her again."

He pulled away, steeling his expression and forcing the grin back on. "I will. Take care of yourself and I'll see you later."

Gage left and closed the door behind him. Waiting near the opposite wall were Admiral McGarret and Fox, joined by an elderly reptilian doctor with large glasses and a red tie pulled loose around his collar. The admiral's staff had left for the waiting room, leaving the entire clean, white corridor to them.

Once Gage had joined them, McGarret started. "Captain Birse, this is Doctor Tilak, the man in charge of Fara's recovery. He and I have discussed some interesting findings and we thought you should know."

Gage furrowed his brow. "Interesting how?"

The doctor straightened his glasses and folded his hands before him over a medical PDA. "When the patient was brought in, she seemed to exhibit signs of a massive heart attack but with no apparent cardiac damage. Using defibrillation only confused matters; it caused a bioelectric surge that dispelled the immediate mortal threat but did not change her basic symptoms. The patient has a friend upstairs; as little as ten more seconds without treatment would have killed her. It's a stroke of luck she happened to be with a competent medic at the time."

"So she's alright then?"

"Spill it all, doctor," McGarret interjected.

Tilak hesitated and glanced. "We've discovered an…infestation of incredibly advanced nanomachines in her blood stream. Rudimentary parts of such research were published after being found in the ruins of Andross' lab after the war but nothing this developed. The nanites are benign when dormant but this killswitch activated them to simulate a heart attack to terrifyingly genuine effect. Though we were able to interrupt their programming, it's impossible to deactivate them fully without the proper technological counteragent. This is much like a disease we simply don't have the cure for. The two Siren bodies possess these same nanites. It's obvious their purpose is to kill the host should the Siren become deviant."

"Are you saying she's still in danger?" Fox asked.

"I'm very sorry, but it's only a matter of time. Their program was interrupted but they remain active and in conflict with red blood cells. She's feeling no effects at this time, probably feels no worse for wear than if she's recovering from a fever, but eventually the nanites will inflict enough damage to cause symptoms of severe hemolytic anemia. Could be one day or one month depending on the nanite activity but it will kill her in time. Again, I'm sorry."

Gage closed his eyes and ran his hand slowly under his muzzle. He remained silent for a few moments, the others aware of his connection and allowing him the time to break the silence at his will. Finally, his eyes still shut and his voice low and grim, he said, "Someone doesn't engineer something like this without creating a failsafe, a way to stop it. You said this is like a disease; then there must be a 'cure,' a way to kill the nanites. Dianus must have it."

"That's logical, yes." The doctor cleared his throat. "But I'm afraid there's more. The nanite samples we studied showed traces of volatile elements. Coupled with the fact that our experiments with the killswitch signal and the nanite receptors showed a second potential activation signal, we believe the patient could be a danger to others as well."

"What the hell does this all mean?!" Gage clenched his fist and glared at the doctor with bared teeth. "Stop with all this medical bullshit and just tell me what's going on!"

Tilak obviously had experience breaking bad news to people; he recoiled at first but regained his composure and met the fox's eyes. "Dianus wanted to be able to kill her Sirens at will, and also use them as living bombs. Had Hellion used a different signal, the explosives on the nanites would've mingled with her bioelectricity and caused an explosion equal to about thirty pounds of plastic explosive. Luckily, her damaged neural connection implant rendered that particular signal useless. But since we're dealing with brand new tech here, we're unsure if anything external could set the nanites off."

Gage just shook his head, anger-creased brow shadowing sorrowful eyes. "I want to see her. What room is she in?"

The lizard stole a look at McGarret before answering. "As soon as we discovered the explosives and secondary signal, we moved her to a secure bomb disposal chamber near the hangar for the crew's safety."

"What?" Gage's fists squeezed tighter. "You stuck her in a big cube like some science project?"

"We…we had no—"

"That'll be all, doctor." McGarret stepped between them and shook the lizard's hand. "Thank you and I'll await any updates." As Tilak gratefully scurried toward the rear of the infirmary, the admiral waved his hand toward Fox. "Please wait outside, Mister McCloud. I'll expect to see you at the briefing in a half hour in room fourteen-delta."

Fox hesitated in confusion but stepped back and left without a word.

Once the hallways belonged only to McGarret and Gage, the elderly wolf clasped his hands behind his back and stared the younger soldier square in the eye. "Captain Birse, I always allow special forces a good amount of leeway. I figure you didn't go through all that training and combat just to have the brass spell things out for you and micromanage you. I knew you and Fara were getting a little closer than I usually like my soldiers to be but I trusted you to separate your feelings from your job. Even this new, frankly disturbing information regarding Project Siren and Fara's origin doesn't change my opinion. She's a fine woman and she's helped us a great deal."

"Yes, sir."

"However…have you looked at yourself, Birse?" McGarret swiped his finger on Gage's sooty fur and flicked it away in disgust. "Have you looked at how you're acting? You're a hero on this ship, a symbol of strength. We suffered a major attack; do you think walking around heaped in grime with this sad look on your face inspires confidence in the crew? Look at me, Birse. How do you think I feel inside having failed my men, the defense of this ship, and fallen into the hands of those lunatics? Do you think it matters one goddamn bit that I want to just sit with a bottle of scotch and be by myself for the first time since I can remember? It doesn't, not one goddamn bit, because _this_ is what the Vanguard needs."

Gage's tight fists relaxed.

"I trust you to know that, Birse. You can have your feelings for Fara and you can be devastated by what war does to those you care about. We've all been through that. But the second it starts interfering with your job, you have to choose one or the other."

"Sir, I—"

McGarret raised his palm to silence him. "Just listen. You're flesh and blood like anyone else, tough but not invincible. No one is. You've gone a long time without sleep, seen a lot of action without much pause, and suffered a hit close to the heart. In any other situation, I'd take you off active duty to let you rest. But this war's coming to a boil and I need you and Dagger. You haven't been this busy and stretched thin since the Lylat War and even then you had a full five-man team, am I right?"

"Yes, sir."

"So here I am, faced with a dirty, sullen, tired captain. I don't blame you for it, Birse; God knows you've given more in this conflict than any man has the right to ask of a soldier. But it's not what I need right now. It's not what the Vanguard needs or what Lylat needs or even what Fara needs. We all need a man who can last just a little bit longer. And if you're as much a soldier as I think you are, that should be all you need to hear."

Gage didn't answer but his body had relaxed, his tense arms looser and his eyes clearer.

"But I'd rather have no captain than a distracted captain," the admiral continued. "I need you and your team at this briefing in twenty-five minutes. If you don't show up, I'll understand and take you off active duty until you inform me you're ready. But if you do show up, I expect your head to be a hundred percent on the tasks at hand and I expect you to be the captain that impressed the hell out of me since his assignment to my command; the captain Lylat needs. Whichever you choose, don't bullshit me or yourself. Do I make myself perfectly clear, Captain Birse?"

"Yes, sir."

With a single nod, McGarret turned and walked to his waiting staff, leaving the fox alone with his thoughts. Gage watched him go and his eyes remained on the doorway long after the entourage had departed, barely noticing when Fox poked his head around the corner then walked up to his friend.

"You okay?" the mercenary asked. "Not more bad news, I hope. What did he want to talk about?"

Gage blinked, the deep reflection behind his eyes sharpening to a focus. "He just had to remind me of something." The Dagger captain clapped Fox on the shoulder and stepped past him. "I'll see you at the briefing; got some things I have to do."

-

* * *

-

Briefing Room 14-D hummed with activity by the time Gage arrived, nearly every seat in the multi-tier observation area filled with officers from the marines to the navy to the logistical and engineering staff. McGarret and his staff stood to the side of the podium dais, poring over datapads with a few people in white suits. The admiral glanced up to see who had arrived and caught Gage's eye; the fox had changed into a clean black-and-gray uniform donned over washed fur and though his face seemed shadowed by exhaustion and tension he held his head high. He gave McGarret an assured nod and the old wolf replied in kind.

Gage spotted Fox sitting beside Bill Grey near the middle of the second tier and joined them. Within a few minutes, Admiral McGarret stepped up to the podium and the noise in the room hushed.

"Good evening," McGarret began, punching different keys on the podium to prompt and prepare displays for the large screen behind him. "We all have jobs to do to get the Vanguard in prime shape again so I'll get to the point of this briefing. You've all been informed of everything we know regarding the Venomian attack and occupation of the Vanguard. Until the past couple hours or so, most of it was a mystery. Now we have a good idea of what Dianus' ultimate plan is and it's time to prepare."

He gestured to his right and someone else joined him on the dais, a short amphibian in a pristine white suit who commanded just as much a presence as the admiral.

"For the specifics," McGarret continued, "I'd like to turn the floor over to Toad Development Enterprises CEO Beltino Toad. I called him for consultation shortly after the conflict ended and he insisted on jumping here despite the risk to assess the threat himself…along with teams of his best technicians, who are helping to repair and reequip the Vanguard. Doctor Toad?"

Slippy's father stepped up to the podium, busy wiping off his glasses. He tucked the handkerchief back in his breast pocket, pushed the round frames up onto the bridge of his wide nose, and cleared his throat. Fox and Gage exchanged a glance, remembering their tumultuous overnight stay at the TDE space station not long ago.

"Thank you, admiral," Beltino said. "Ladies and gentleman, you're commanding the most advanced vessel ever built. It's performed well so far for its maiden voyage, setbacks aside, and even those setbacks can be used to improve future designs, such as hangar security and more weapons control relegated to the bridge. I'm proud to say I was part of the design team for the Vanguard but the crowning jewel from TDE is a proprietary mass-acceleration system for a brand new jump drive capable of shifting the Titan-class vessel to hyperspace."

The screen behind him blinked to life and showed a complex technical schematic that hurt Gage's head just to try and focus on it. But he didn't need to understand the technical babble to recognize the cylindrical jump drive core, about the size of two city buses end to end.

"This is the core of the HMAS-8375 acceleration system," Toad continued. "Only two exist, one outfitted to the _LDC Vanguard _and the other running statistical evaluation tests in a classified TDE station. This, ladies and gentlemen, was the point of Dianus' invasion of the Vanguard."

"They destroyed our jump drive?" an officer in the crowd called out.

"No." Beltino paused, his face disgusted in anticipation of his next words. "They stole it. One of my company's greatest achievements is in Venomian hands. Despite your pilots' valiant efforts, the transport vessel carrying the drive slipped away amidst the chaos; trace scans of combat debris showed no energy signatures of a destroyed drive."

Another crewman popped a question. "What would Venom want it for if it only fits the Vanguard?"

Beltino tapped a button on the podium and the drive schematic disappeared, replaced by a digital blueprint with a very familiar structural pattern. "The Titan-class vessel was the brainchild of a small collective of technicians and scientists, a concept older than the Lylat War. Just before the war broke out, some trusted friends of mine…" He hesitated; Fox didn't need to hear any more to know who he was alluding to. "…copied the initial designs and brought them to Andross. Luckily, he was put on the defensive after the liberation of Corneria and could not spare the men or resources to construct the Titan. I thank God every night for that. However, after my discussions with Admiral McGarret, some odd mysteries are beginning to fit together.

"At the conclusion of the war, the retaking of Venom seemed almost too easy. Andross kept very few soldiers on the planet itself and it seemed that only he and a few fanatics stayed to hold out to the end. He knew the war was lost. But now we suspect he was simply distracting us from something greater."

The screen changed from the Titan schematic to an astronomical chart of Sector Z. The old toad cleared his throat and continued. "Due to the mobility of war, a surge of hyperdrive ion signatures in Sector Z territory were noticed but not much worried over. Supply convoys, long-range patrols, could've been anything. However, a new surge of ion signatures in that same location has recently surfaced…namely, just after the Venomian reinforcements sent to attack the Vanguard retreated. I believe those Venomian vessels jumped into dead space, to a hidden station far away from Lylat. I believe that Andross in his hour of desperation sent Dianus, the bulk of his remaining military, and these stolen Titan plans to this starbase while he stayed and died for his own cause to fool us into becoming victors. And I believe that Dianus has only recently returned to finish Project Siren and put her husband's final wishes into motion. She taunted the Vanguard out here by riling up the pirates and creating unrest just so she could cripple the ship and steal the one component needed to bring her own weapon back to rain fire on Lylat."

The screen blinked to another blueprint of the Titan-class vessel, this one unmistakable in its similarity to the Vanguard. "Ladies and gentlemen, I believe _this_ is Project Atlas."

The toad paused to allow the information to sink in, leaving the briefing room draped in silence under the glow of the foreboding image. No crewman uttered or cursed or shook his head, just stared at it as one would a crouching predator, trying not to imagine the worst that could happen. Beltino stepped aside, allowing McGarret to the podium once more.

"Thank you, Doctor Toad," the admiral said. "Let me bottom line it, people. Dianus could have a fully functioning Venomian Vanguard of her own up and running very soon and we're far from operating at full capacity, not to mention we can't jump to hyperdrive until Doctor Toad arranges for the second core to be delivered. Until reinforcements and updated orders from the LDC arrive, our objectives are as follows: get this ship back up to speed with emphasis on shields and anti-capital weaponry. Second, take out Dianus' precision strike units, which means destroying the Project Siren facility Starfox uncovered. I will coordinate with specific operations sectors for that. Third, I want intel and comm divisions working with Doctor Toad to pinpoint where Dianus got all the materials required to build this thing; maybe we can get a better idea what we're up against. Finally, find Dianus and send the bitch to hell with her shit-sucking husband before Project Atlas can be unleashed."

Nods and grunts of approval throughout the room.

"Every one of your jobs is crucial; I need you to push your men and give all you got. If anything in Lylat has a prayer of standing up to Project Atlas the Vanguard is it, so let's treat the lady with the proper respect. Any questions?"

No response.

"Good. Lieutenant McCullen, I want the 3rd Marines in full gear at all times ready to go. Starfox, Husky, all Navy fighter groups, I want your fighters in the pipe and prepped and your men in comm reach. Captain Birse, I want Dagger on standby and in comm reach as well ready for rapid deployment should I call for you. Everyone else, return to your posts and get this ship singing again. Dismissed."

-

* * *

-

Gage found Ley and Delaine hanging out in the mid-section shooting range, engaged in their own version of target practice. The leopardess stood far downrange, nonchalantly tossing little pieces of trash like crumpled up paper and shell casings from ballistic weapons to her sides for Delaine to pop in mid-air. The two conversed as if sitting with a cup of coffee in the mess hall, Ley not showing the slightest bit of concern with her teammate shooting around her. Gage knew how Ley's turn played out, usually involving her pistol and knife and two objects tossed simultaneously, and it seemed no less dangerous to the surprised onlooker.

But for Dagger, it was just shooting the breeze.

If Gage's teammates were surprised to see him clean and focused again, they said nothing of it as he briefed them on what Beltino and McGarret had reported. They gave much the same reaction the captain himself had felt; somber yet unsurprised that things had escalated. Just as he finished and told them to get some rest while he intended to finally do the same, his comm buzzed to life with one of McGarret's aides who informed him that Beltino wanted to see him alone at the TDE ship in the midsection hangar.

"What the hell does he want?" Gage grumbled to himself, cutting the comm link.

"Maybe some new intel," Delaine offered. "We can hope, anyway."

Ley lazily juggled two shell casings in one hand and said, "Speaking of hope, is there any chance CASOC will finally send Tien and Braddock? Not that I don't love having you guys all to myself or anything, but if this situation doesn't call for a full Dagger team, what does?"

The captain nodded. "I'll ask McGarret. In the meantime, stay in comm contact and have your gear ready to go. And get whatever food and sleep you can now, because if the shit hits the fan who knows when we'll get it next."

Gage turned to leave and almost made it to the shooting range door when he heard Ley call after him.

"Hey, boss!"

Gage spun, his pistol pulled from his thigh holster and raised to eye level in a fraction of a second. He loosed a single shot, the laser vaporizing the soaring shell and dissipating against the absorption shield at the end of the range. With a flip around his finger, he slipped the handgun back into the holster and continued on his way, pausing only long enough to say, "You'll have to catch me on a worse day than this, sergeant."

"Show off."

-

* * *

-

Beltino's ship would have been easy to spot even without the white-clad technicians mulling around it; sticking with the company's theme, the ship practically glowed white with its pristine paint job and sleek design, especially when anchored beside war-weary gray military vessels. Gage could spot no weapons or defensive measures of any kind on the hull though the long back-heavy structure was similar to the troop transports the military contracted from TDE. But Gage knew from experience, especially regarding shrewd people like Beltino, that just because something wasn't visible didn't mean it wasn't there.

One of the engineers waved him through and said that Doctor Toad would be with him shortly. Gage walked up the back ramp into the ship's cargo area and looked around at the empty container moors where supplies had apparently already been offloaded. He moseyed around, hands folded over his chest, perusing the labels of the few smaller containers that remained behind. Couplers…capacitors…cell transformers…some random engineering parts that meant nothing to him…

As he reached the door that led to the cockpit, he turned to start his way back but something caught his eye in the corner, hidden and protected by transparent blast shielding. At first he thought someone was staring at him from inside the cylindrical protection, standing deathly still. But a look up and down showed it to be some kind of body armor, far more advanced than anything he had ever seen before; a full-body system of metal plating and cybernetics.

"I see you two have met."

Gage had heard the footsteps; he slowly turned away from the body armor to face Beltino Toad. "Never a dull moment at TDE, huh?"

"There can't be, not when there's never a dull moment in the rest of the galaxy. Besides, dullness is bad for business." He extended a hand. "Good to see you again, Captain Birse."

Gage took the hand but narrowed his steel eyes. "Let's try to end this visit on a better note than last time. I understand why you did that you did but that still doesn't put you on my Christmas card list."

"Fortunately, I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to help win a war. Though while we're on the subject, how is your female friend faring?"

"Don't play games; McGarret filled you in on Project Siren, you know exactly how she is. Why would you care anyway?"

Beltino held his glasses up to the light and wiped the lenses with his handkerchief. "I'm not a cold corporate monster, captain. You don't know how hard it was for me to ask Fox to torture another person, ruse or not. But wars and disasters are avoided and triumphed over by those who can do what's necessary and shoulder the burden that comes with it. You know that better than anyone. Twice the man is he who can accept that fact when someone he cares about is affected."

Gage frowned. "You're full of little gems like that, aren't you?"

"I've spent quite a bit of time thinking about such things. I don't do my job just to make money, though that's not an unwelcome perk. I have honorable intentions in what I do, just like you." The toad slid his glasses back onto his face. "On that ground, I hope we can at least maintain a working relationship. I have respect for Dagger; you're honorable yet unafraid to do what's necessary to protect this galaxy. And if Fox considers you a friend, then you must be a good man."

"So what'd you call me down here for, to give me a seat on your board of directors?"

Beltino laughed and brushed by the fox to access a control panel beside the armor's shield. A few quick strokes of the keys and the barrier lifted, prompting an overhead light to further illuminate the metal armor resting on its upright armature.

"I can read people rather well, captain," Toad said. "I could offer you half my fortune and you wouldn't take such a boring, meaningless job. No, I'd like to show you something more up your alley. It's highly classified though I suspect you're used to such conditions. I plan on presenting it to the Cornerian Army Special Operations Command once this conflict is settled but the one piece of data I lack is a real field test in a combat situation."

"Me and my team aren't test dummies."

"No, but who better to test the greatest modern innovation in ground combat than the galaxy's greatest ground combatants?"

"Look, I'm really tired and I—"

"At least hear me out." Beltino spread his palms out, inviting the fox to come closer. When Gage sighed and joined him near the armature, he offered a cordial grin and cleared his throat. "Allow me to present a TDE propriety weapon systems prototype for the purpose of Power-Assisted Land Assault, Defense, and INtervention."

The Dagger captain turned the words around in his head and rolled his eyes with a scoff. "The Paladin. Wow, if you tortured that acronym any more you'd be before an LDC tribunal."

"You'd be surprised how often something so simple can convey the proper mental image or feeling, particularly when trying to sell it to a budget-wary military staff. Forced or not, I believe the name is rather fitting for a modern suit of armor. And I can appreciate the irony as well."

"Irony?"

Beltino stepped forward and rapped his knuckles on the armor's solid chest. "That the Paladin, named after fierce yet chivalrous and almost holy warriors of ages past, can unleash utter hell upon anything in its path."

Gage grunted low in his throat. "I guess that tagline makes up for the acronym. Go ahead, you have my attention."

The old toad started with the helmet and worked down, his fingers pointing out each feature with the flourish of a practiced salesman. "The entire unit offers full body protection so that not one inch of flesh is exposed to gunfire or the elements. This includes the helmet; the headpiece conforms to the operator's facial structure and extends segmented plates around the ears and muzzle, able to fit any race from hares to avians, anyone. The inner headpiece includes a comm system, vocal and neural interfacing for limited thought-controlled movement and activation, and a full visual readout with any information the operator would need. Naturally, all modern HUD elements are included, such as targeting and scanning. Though the headpiece is attached to the rest of the suit by way of an armored cowl, the operator can move his neck and look around with ease."

He moved his hand down to the torso, shoulders, and arms. "Lightweight ablative metal hybrid; small arms fire will just bounce off. The power core is stored here for centralized dispersion along with a backup unit at the base of the spine. The entire suit is sensitive to the operator's body mass and closes in tight enough to feel like a second layer of skin, allowing for greater mobility. The lightweight design and neural interfacing ensures moving around to be as natural as running or walking normally, albeit cumbersome at first. Shoulders, elbows, knees…all fully natural in manipulation."

He pointed down at the feet. "Boost-assisted propulsion; you can get maybe a hundred-fifty feet off the ground in one jump, great for traversing wreckage or destroyed cities or rough terrain. Kinetic shock absorbers make falling merely a discomfort, though anything above a hundred-sixty feet starts hurting. Well, I believe that's everything on the surface. Oh yes, the suit is environmentally self-contained, protected against extreme cold and heat so long as it remains sealed around the operator."

"Huh." Gage looked the armor up and down, wondering whether he'd feel claustrophobic sealed in metal from the tips of his ears to his toes. He lifted the thick gauntleted forearm of the suit's upper body and moved the fingers around. "Pretty hefty around the hands; how's the soldier supposed to use a rifle effectively?"

"Good question. The answer is; he doesn't." Beltino lifted the other forearm and pointed out grooves running along the wrist up the elbow and even to the shoulder spaulders. "The Paladin is special in that not only does it fully armor a land warrior and boost his mobility, but its weapon system is self-contained as well. Retractable weapons have been fitted inside the arms and wrists using advanced collapsible geometrics. The neural and vocal interface allows the operator to choose his offensive selection, from rapid-fire blasters in the wrist equal to the yield of an assault rifle to anti-armor energy pulses in the forearms. The HUD works with the weapons to assist aiming, even offering limited seeker tracking for airborne targets. It's also worth mentioning that due to the neural assist which makes the suit move with you rather than be a burden, the soldier's close-quarters effectiveness increases dramatically. Imagine punching a wall, vehicle, or enemy soldier, except your fist is power-assisted and covered with this." He released the forearm and it impacted the mooring with a solid clang that reverberated throughout the ship.

"Impressive," Gage uttered, hiding a grin at the prospect.

"And I've only scratched the surface of the Paladin's offensive and defensive capabilities and potential. It's all in the operations manual which I've had sent to Dagger's secure CASOC access file. Of course, you'd have to experiment with it to understand it fully and get a true feel for it. Shall I, perhaps…book you for a playdate with it? A successful combat trial with Captain Birse of Dagger would make selling this to Corneria almost too easy."

Gage ran his hand over the smooth metal overlays and segmented armor, feeling the suit's solid strength in even a simple touch. He felt the red-tinted HUD visor on the headpiece, let his finger slide down the inclined brow that gave it the illusion of a fierce glare, and imagined himself behind it. But ultimately, he shook his head. "Dagger's done fine without these little toys. Whatever's next in this war we can't afford to jeopardize our already soft position with unproven prototypes on the battlefield. Besides, no one on my team goes into combat without complete confidence in his own self-maintained equipment; no way in hell I'd drop into a killzone as a test subject with this tin can wrapped around me. CASOC would never go for it anyway; we may be expendable assets but we're not test pilots. Our job is to accomplish our mission, not gather test data."

Beltino sighed. "Well, I can respect your stance. I thought you might want first crack at it, and an endorsement from you would help my sales pitch, but you make a valid point. Perhaps a small-scale operation after this conflict is wrapped up? Something with fewer variables? I'm sure I can convince your superiors."

"We'll see. One war at a time."

"Very well." Beltino stepped back, the fox with him, and closed the armature's cylindrical shield again, resetting the access code. "It will be here in case you change your mind or find yourself in need of an unpredictable, risky, yet undeniable edge."

Gage gave the armor a last look and walked back toward the ramp with the toad. "You're pretty confident in your work."

"I wouldn't be very good at my job if I wasn't. You can understand that."

"I'm sort of surprised you brought something like this to such a dangerous area. What if it was hijacked on the way here? What if Dianus' goons got it, or God forbid a Siren?"

Beltino grinned and extracted a thin black case from his inner coat pocket. It flipped open to reveal four small syringes filled with a clear liquid. "Then they'd be in the possession of the galaxy's most expensive hunk of metal, because it's useless without these. This is a biotech conductor compound injected into the bloodstream, based off benign viral solutions much like an inoculation. If the neural interface doesn't detect this trace in the operator's biological readout, the suit does not power up; the operator must be injected before he can use the suit and the compound runs its course within twenty-four hours, so even if someone stole a shot he'd have a day's joyride before the suit shut down. This little feature is even more classified than the suit's existence and the compound is developed and stored in a top-secret lab. Except these, which I brought in case you took me up on my offer." He slipped the case back into his pocket and tapped it a couple times.

"Smart. Between your stunt with Fox and things like that, a guy would think you're obsessed with security."

"I'd rather be caught with my pants too tight than down around my ankles. We've seen what can happen when the work of good men falls into bad hands." Beltino descended the ramp first and extended his hand once again. "But that's a conversation for another day. I'm sorry to have kept you, captain, I'm sure you'd like to get some sleep after such a tumultuous couple days."

Gage shook. "That's the plan. But I have someone I'd like to see first."

"Oh?" The toad hid a sly grin. "Your lady friend? You know…I might have something you can make use of, a peace offering. Consider it, say, a gift between occupational allies."

"Yeah? First the Paladin, now you're trying to help me with my love life?"

Beltino looked the fox up and down and raised his brow, pursing his lips in doubt. "I'm not a miracle worker. One war at a time, Captain Birse."

-

* * *

-

The explosives disposal chamber sat isolated and alone behind two sealed reinforced doors, affixed to the center of a larger room comprised of explosion dampeners. A giant polymetal cube about the size of a crewman's room, it usually only saw use when a bomb or unstable energy source needed to be defused or fixed so the explosion would be contained if the unfortunate person working on it slipped up or failed. Gage breezed past the guard standing watch over the cube and shuddered, either from the cold air of the oxygen recyclers or the thought of Fara sitting alone in the windowless chamber.

He pulled the thick chamber door open and smiled at Fara's relieved face. She stood from the chair they had brought in for her and rushed into his waiting arms.

"God, I thought you were another doctor coming in to poke and prod me."

"I'm no doctor, but I wouldn't mind poking and prodding you a little." Their muzzles met in a kiss, Gage's hand caressing her tired, sweat-stained face, and he eyed her new clothes. "They scrounged up some marine fatigues for you, huh? No backless hospital gown?"

Fara grinned and playfully shoved him away. "No, and no tight Siren suit either. I wore that about as long as I'd ever want to." Her grin fell a bit. "I guess it's too much to hope that you're here to tell me I can leave."

"No." It pained Gage more than he thought to have to say that. "Did the doctors…did you they tell you what's wrong?"

The vixen nodded. "I suppose there's still room for hope that they can find a cure in time. But isn't it dangerous for you to be in here with me? They don't know if the explosive nanites can—"

"Fuck the nanites." Gage pulled the door closed behind him, the heavy metal sealing them in with a loud thud. "And fuck the doctors' gloom and doom. We promised each other a second date and nothing's gonna get in the way of that now."

Fara blinked in surprise and noticed for the first time the strap over his left shoulder. "What's that?"

The captain swung the duffel bag around and plopped it on the floor. "If we can't go out for a second date, at least I can bring a five-star meal here to you." He knelt over the bag and pulled out a white bedsheet with a grand flourish, letting it settle as a makeshift picnic blanket on the cold metal floor. He unloaded the rest of the bag's contents: covered paper plates of various leftovers from the mess hall, from pudding to an unidentifiable loaf of meat-like substance. "Well, four star at least. Maybe three. What is this?" He lifted the cover of a plate, sniffed, and scrunched his nose. "Okay, half a star. But I have something that makes up for it."

Fara's eyes lit up as the fox produced a bottle of champagne and two clear plastic cups. "Oh, Gage…"

"Compliments of Toad Development Enterprises, actually. Beltino says to enjoy. The old bastard has an entire liquor closet on his personal ship." Gage set it down on the sheet beside the other items of the military-grade feast, sat with his back against the wall, and offered his hand for his date to take and join him. "It's not a Corneria City bistro, but at least our third date has nowhere to go but up, right?"

Fara took the hand and eased herself down beside him, legs out to her side. She wrapped her arms around his chest and left a spot of moisture on his shirt where her wet eye pressed against it. "This is just what I needed. Thanks so much, Gage. I can't imagine a more perfect second date."

"You need to get out more then," the fox quipped though he knew what she meant. He retrieved the champagne and pulled the cork until it came free with a loud pop. Once he and Fara both held full, effervescent cups, he raised his own and tried to think of something to say. "I'd propose a toast but every toast I've ever given has started with 'to our fallen brother…' I don't really know what to say."

"Hmm." Fara turned her cup around in her fingers, her eyes lost in the golden liquid. "Gage do you think I ever had a choice?"

Gage hesitated, wondering how the toast veered so suddenly. "Choice?"

"I know my broken neural implant got me mostly free of Dianus' control, but what about how I am now? Is this how all the Sirens are when they're not drones? You know Robin, Fox's assistant robot? What makes me and her any different? What if every aspect of who I am is just more programming, just…" She shook her head, searching for the word. "…soulless."

"Don't think like that. You always had a choice from the day we met. If your mind was programmed by Dianus, you wouldn't have helped us at all. And you wouldn't love me."

"What about my history, the file we found in the Siren cavern? It said I was defective and that's why Dianus tortured me and stuck me back in stasis until…until she tried to turn me on the Vanguard."

"Listen," Gage replied, nestling closer to her. "I can't be sure all the clutter and junk in your brain is gone. But I trust my instincts and my instincts don't smell anything fishy about you. Once this is all over maybe we'll find out for sure but for now you'll just have to trust my instincts also. That's a choice you can make right now; can you trust me?"

Fara's downcast eyes rose to meet his. After a few moments her cup rose as well and she clicked it against his own, a small grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. "To choices then."

Gage nodded in satisfaction at the toast and took a long sip from his cup. He could taste the price tag with each bubble that danced across his tongue, sweet and delicate, evoking a few moans of enjoyment before he even swallowed the first gulp. "Oh, man…screw it, I'm going into the private sector. You think Beltino needs a new head of security?"

Fara chuckled, polishing off her first couple sips. "Nice try but I know you better than that. You'd never sell out."

"Yeah, yeah," Gage sighed. He frowned at his cup, wanting to drink more but not wanting it to run out. "Maybe if I start saving now I can afford a bottle for retirement. Well, nothing goes with the finest champagne money can buy quite like military mess hall scraps, so dig in."

-

* * *

-

"Ow! Dammit!" Fox jerked his hand away from the tangle of mechanical innards before him and shoved his burned finger into his mouth, instantly regretting it thanks to the grease that had built up on his fur. He glared at the bare hyperlaser conduit on the Arwing's left wing. "How did you mess this thing up so bad? Even that Solar mission in the war didn't beat it up like this."

Falco scoffed and poked his head up from the other side of his Arwing where he worked on the jittery grav-stabilizer. "Yes it did, we just had squeaker around to fix everything."

"Hey come on, don't talk about him like that."

"Like what?"

Fox sucked on his finger for another second. "Nothing. Never mind."

Falco rested his elbow on the top of the canopy and wiped sweat from his brow, smearing grease on his feathers. "Look, I miss him too but I'm good at flying the Arwing, not piecing the damn thing back together. And that's like your fourth burn or shock in the last fifteen minutes. Like it or not, we need a mechanic."

With a frustrated growl, Fox threw his wrench down where it clattered amongst the removed hull pieces and hopped off the ladder. "It's not that simple. We're not flying smuggling skiffs out of some backwater Zonessian hovel here; we need a damn good mechanic who knows Arwings, who knows how to _fly_ an Arwing, who has the balls to fight, and who's a good, honorable person. Do you have any clue how rare that is? Not to mention I…" He hesitated and wiped his hands on the rag hanging from his belt. "I'm not too eager to replace a good friend."

"If I may, sir." Robin rolled out from under the Arwing, flat on her back on a creeper platform. "I just wanted to assure you that I'd be more than happy to fulfill any role needed, were it not for my limited labor functionality and near absence of reflexive reactions. I'm afraid I was built more as a caretaker for the insert name here."

Falco grunted. "Well, with no reflexive reactions you'd make about as good a pilot as Slippy."

"Well, we Toads always found more satisfaction in building the triggers rather than pulling them."

Fox spun around to see Beltino Toad in a crisp white three-piece suit standing in the maintenance bay's doorway along with four men in white jumpsuits. The toad offered a cordial smile and stepped forward to where the team had moored Falco's Arwing. With brightened eyes, Robin hopped up from the creeper and ran to him as if she wanted to leap right into his arms, but stopped short so as not to get grease on his suit.

"Father!" she cried. "How lovely to see you again!"

"Hello, dear." He daintily lifted her hand and kissed it. "Have you been taking good care of daddy's friends?"

"Of course, Father. The insert name here has been performing well above expectations."

"Good, good."

Fox walked over to them, wondering how much of the conversation regarding his son Beltino had heard. If he heard anything he didn't like, it didn't show in his face. "You program them as your children?"

"Well, I did create them after all." Beltino gently urged Robin back toward the Arwing. "Why don't you go back to work, dear? Daddy has to talk with Mister McCloud."

"Okay!"

After she skipped back to her work on the fighter's belly, her "father" returned his attention to Fox. "I find value in feeling close to my work. I'm not a fool who believes them to be real people, I simply like injecting an otherwise emotionless profession with some spirit and life. Didn't you consider ROB a friend despite your logical knowledge of him as synthetic?"

"I guess you got a point there." Fox eyed the four workers behind his uninvited guest. "How did you get onboard anyway?"

"Technically, the ship is still in my possession until you name it and register it with the transportation authority. My access codes still work so I showed myself in. Are you having trouble with the trans-authority?"

"No, I just…haven't got around to it yet. Still thinking."

Beltino nodded. "I understand. A name says a lot, especially in this case. Don't force it, let it come to you." He raised his finger and flicked it forward, signaling the workers toward the Arwing. "But we can't let the ship fall apart in the meantime. I understand your team is at a bit of a loss so I brought four of my best technicians to help with repairs."

Fox watched them gather what they needed and take their positions around the Arwing, Falco gladly stepping out of the way to let them work. He shot a glance at the toad, his eyes narrowed in scrutiny. "Did you personally need to come out here just to give that briefing and drop off a few techs? Why risk yourself in the most dangerous zone in Lylat?"

"The Titan-class is a very exclusive and complicated ship design. To give my best analysis I needed all the intel first-hand. I also wanted to check up on my little gift to you here to make sure it's running well, and I wanted to offer something to Captain Birse." Beltino paused and licked his lips, his eyes faltering from their usual cold, hard air. "And I felt I had to be here. I may not be able to fight but I can very well do all I can to ensure you and the Vanguard kill the monster who took my son from me. I can't help as thoroughly from my desk."

Fox slowly nodded, recognizing that momentary glint of pain in the toad's eye that betrayed his calm façade. "Fair enough."

Beltino took Fox's arm and turned with him away from the congregation at the Arwing, his voice lowered when he spoke. "I also wanted to give you something. McGarret's men have been analyzing it since they found it but there's nothing of use to them on it. It's not easy to hear, but we all agreed it's your business as much as anyone's."

He slipped his hand inside his pocket, retrieved a thin silver data recorder, and pressed it into Fox's palm.

With a chill creeping up his spine, Fox already knew whose voice he'd hear from the recorder. He wanted to drop it, forget it, avoid any further painful recognition of his mother, but Beltino seemed to anticipate it; he closed the pilot's fingers around it and pressed hard.

"Don't be scared of her, Fox. She feeds on fear. Go."

Beltino pulled the closed hand toward him and set him on the path toward the door where he could get some privacy. As Fox left, he returned to the Arwing to oversee the repairs and keep Falco from curiously following his leader.

The repair bay door slid shut behind him, drowning out the mechanical noise and leaving him alone in the cold corridor. His mind chaotic with the anxiety of hearing from his mother again, he looked around in a daze, wondering where to go to listen to it, and finally just backed up against the wall and slid to the ground. Before he could change his mind, he activated the recorder and felt his gut churn at the sound of her voice: undeniably Vixy, but so tainted.

_"Fox…" _A long pause._ "If my men followed their orders, they've left this for you to find on the Vanguard. I feel I must say something before it's too late._

_"Your father and I wanted to bring you with us when we came into the arms of Venom. But then James lost his way, grew weak and traitorous. He destroyed the Papetoon facility as you no doubt discovered so he had to be exiled, and he eventually died, consumed by Venom after he helped you destroy my beloved. You found his Arwing. You know the truth._

_"You don't realize how close you came to being Venom's savior, Venom's hero. If you were raised here, you would have fought for Andross. But it was not to be; you became a tool of Hare and Pepper and Corneria and killed my beloved, the rightful ruler of Lylat. When he forced me to leave him to sacrifice himself for the future of Venom, he made me promise that I'd see to your death some day. He thought it would be hard for me to make such a promise but I felt no such apprehension. I promised with all my heart; I told him I never loved James, and I never loved you, Fox. And that is the truth. Maybe at one time in my life I thought I did, but only after I fell in love with my beloved did I realize how wrong I was. You mean less to me than my daughters, the Sirens."_

The cold air in the corridor sank into Fox's skin past his fur.

_"I want you to die before my own eyes, Fox, so I can be sure my promise is fulfilled. I don't wish to be found just yet but you'll know when the time is right. Come to bargain with me if you must, come to negotiate or plead or remind me that you were once my son. But I'm only interested in fulfilling the promise._

_"I'll be waiting, Fox." _

The recorder clicked off, the sound echoing in the empty hall.

Fox rested his elbows on his knees and bowed his head, the voice haunting him as if the message hadn't ended. He squeezed his hands together and endured it, losing all track of time, until it reduced to a dull throbbing in his heart, a feeling he knew might never go away completely.

-

* * *

-

Gage stood and stretched, groaning on a full stomach. "So that's the secret to making mess hall food bearable: expensive booze."

Fara smiled and downed the last few drops from her cup. "Don't get used to it."

They tossed the plastic cups and empty bottle along with the paper plates into a heap on the sheet, which Gage gathered up and stuffed unceremoniously into his duffel bag. With a disappointed glance at his watch, he helped Fara to her feet and held her close. "I have to head out. Got some things to take care of to prep the team."

"Oh…okay." The vixen planted a kiss on his muzzle and stepped to the side so he could open the disposal chamber door.

"I'll come back whenever I get a free moment. Just hang tight and I'll see about getting a better place for you to be than this."

Fara nodded, her face rigid.

As Gage hefted the door open and took a step out, a hand gripped his arm with iron strength, the claws digging into his fur.

"Don't go!"

He turned to see Fara's face collapsed in dread, her eyes watering and already spilling over. Shocked by the sudden change, Gage dropped the bag and turned to hold her, peeling her claws out of his flesh. "What's wrong? What is it?"

"Gage…" She pulled him near her and took him around the chest, trembling so hard it made his vision shake. She spoke in a near whisper, choked on a tight throat. "I don't want to die, Gage. Not like this, not when we were just starting. It can happen any time. This could be the last time I ever see you."

The fox put his arms around her and squeezed, trying to subdue the quivering. He realized with a pang of guilt that Fara had been doing the same thing as him the entire time: forcing a steady front to hide her fears. But as he had moved to leave, her own barricades fell under the prospect of an uncertain death. Gage's own strength staggered, threatened to give out on him as the woman he loved was tortured by fear.

But his strength would not give out.

That wasn't what Fara needed.

Gage tightened his arms and let her find the shelter she needed in them. He spoke in a gentle yet firm tone. "I need you to trust me, Fara. Remember what we talked about? Choices? Being scared is a choice. You can feel fear, you can have it hack and slash at your innards, but letting it make you scared is a choice. I just need you to hold on. Dianus has a way to stop the nanites, she has to since she owns them. Once we take her down, we'll have it and you'll be fine. You need to remember that and just trust me."

Gage didn't know if his words had any effect but after a minute, the vixen calmed down; her chest rose and fell but the quaking ceased. She looked up with soaked red eyes and said in a hoarse utter, "It's a choice."

"Right. You chose to trust me before, just keep thinking about that."

"I will." Fear still overcast her face but her desperate grip on him slackened.

"You gonna be alright?"

Fara nodded and even dared a tiny attempt at a grin. "I really did appreciate you coming to see me like this."

"I can tell; you cried a lot less than most of my other dates."

A short, tense laugh burst from her muzzle just long enough to break her somber expression. "Come back soon, okay?"

"I will."

Gage smiled and, after stepping fully out of the chamber, started closing the door despite the rotten feeling it gave him to do so. The door sealed shut between them and he allowed himself a moment of anger and sorrow before pulling his shoulders back, exhaling the feelings, and striding away from the chamber to see to his duties with Dagger.

-

**_-Chapter 21 Coming Soon-_**


	28. To Fight is to Remember

[Author's Note: Nothing to announce or mention, except my appreciation again to reviewers old and new. Thanks for reading as always and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 21  
To Fight is to Remember  
_LDC Reconnaissance Station Tethys  
0923 hours local_

-

Pieter's eyes flew open and immediately clenched shut again at the warm sting of blood. He groaned, his head throbbing in protest at even that slight rumble in his throat, but the rhythm of the throbs matched a far greater clamor: blaring alarms from all around him, pounding down on him, ripping his brain apart. He couldn't feel the rest of his body and didn't want to if it meant more pain like the warzone in his skull.

That damn alarm!

So annoying…so damn loud…why were the alarms even—

-

_Midnight status check, Pieter. Blah blah blah, you know the drill. Anything?_

_Aquas is blue, Zoness is green, and the coffee tastes like piss._

_Usual report then._

_-_

Blood…

Pieter forced his eyes open again despite the pain and ran his hand across his forehead, realizing in the process that he was slumped in a heap on the metal floor. His blurred vision cleared to show a world of red; flashing emergency lights bathed the corridor in swirling color that only made his head hurt worse. His hand trembled before his eyes, soaked with blood from his head. All worries about his splitting headache were swept away in a wave of sudden fear.

-

_Wait a minute—_

_-_

"Flynn," he felt his voice utter, though the words were lost in the thundering alarm.

He tried to push himself up and crumpled back down with a cry of pain, biting his lower lip against the agony in his right wrist as the pain inched up his arm like razor blades in his veins. He didn't need to inspect the wrist to know it was broken. Nursing the arm against his hip, Pieter nudged himself up on his left hand and nearly fell over again as nausea and dizziness overtook him. Just to be sure, he flattened his palm against the wall and kept it there for support as he shuffled forward, his addled mind desperately digging for how he had ended up there to begin with.

There…where is there…?

Pieter blinked and looked around, even his eyes burning at simply trying to focus. The metal floor, walls, ventilated ceiling, all the same as any other hallway on the station. Some of the wall and overhead plating had come loose, revealing the naked cables and innards underneath, and Pieter realized that must have been what injured him. He backed away from a tile still lazily winging back and forth from its moorings and turned to almost smack his nose into a closed door with a large "4" stenciled in the middle.

-

_We gotta…oh, dear God, I don't know…we gotta…_

_Flynn, the guns aren't powered up yet!_

_Screw the guns! Do you see that thing?! Pieter, isolate the pressure distribution from the escape pods and—_

_I don't have connection! A shot must've hit the—_

_Then get down to the terminal on four and patch in remotely! Go!_

_-_

"Oh, God." The number blurred before Pieter's eyes as he remembered Flynn's voice, the commands and urgency rattling him all over again. He remembered fear; at who or what he couldn't recall but both he and Flynn had been reduced to the terrified ghosts haunting his memory because of it. Pieter's knees shook, more from the cloudy memory than his weakened strength; the memory of pure, paralyzing horror.

"Flynn."

He had to find the lieutenant, find out what the hell had happened, what could have made him so afraid. Through the haze and pain in his head he could think of little except to head back to Command and Control. At least he remembered how to do that; it would take more than a violent blow to the head to erase the routine of the same corridor's he'd traversed for the past seven months of his assignment to the station.

Seven months.

And not so much as a suspicious scanner blip until now.

Why can't someone turn off the goddamn alarms?!

Through the door lay another stretch of red-washed metal, panels and light fixtures shuffled about as if the station had been given a turbulent jolt. Pieter scrunched his sticky brow in confusion and tilted his head; a clump of loose wires hung from the ceiling, sparking and swaying at an odd angle. Debris from the broken panels had all slid to the left side of the corridor as well. Pieter realized his difficulty in keeping his balance wasn't totally his head's fault; the inertial stabilizers had been knocked offline, causing the station to tilt like a crippled boat at sea.

A crippled tin can in the middle of space. No water. Just nothing.

The nightmares from the Academy crept back into his mind; the lectures on space safety and what happens to a person when he's sucked into space kept him awake for a week.

"Oh, God. Oh, God."

Pieter's heart raced, his breath coming in short spurts that made him dizzier. Hand sliding along the wall for support, he stumbled toward the emergency stairwell at the far end of the flashing corridor. He tried not to think about anything except getting to Command and Control but fear both hurried him along and threatened to hold him back. Where was everyone? Evacuated? Dead?

What the hell did all this?

"Up the stairs. Turn left."

Annoying as it was to his battered head, the massage of his own throat vibrating with his voice soothed him, offered something else except the lights and alarms. The voice commanded him, told him where to go. He put it in charge.

The station was lost. The alarms were a banshee's cry calling for him, the swirling lights ticking down the seconds he had left. His life – the past that now meant nothing and the future that never stood a chance – seemed distant, as if it had already been buried and forgotten.

"Second door on the right. Data storage access corridor."

But still he moved, the mystery of the fear compelling him. Each step proved a labor on the sloped floor, each stumble and slip resulting in another flare of pain from his jostled wrist. So focused was he on keeping conscious and moving forward that he almost stepped right over Terelli's body. The tigress lay amongst smatterings of debris that had collected in the corner of the corridor thanks to the inertial destabilization, her eyes still open and staring blankly at Pieter through the red tinge of the emergency lights. Her limbs stuck over the debris at awkward angles and her head lolled below her shoulder on a broken neck.

Terelli had actually passed the pilot's exam, unlike Pieter. She had opted for this post so she could see Aquas and get away from the cramped city life of her childhood. Every second of leave time she could get she spent at one floating settlement or another, even invited Pieter along once. He said he'd go next time.

She stared at him, scared, confused, wondering how it could all be over so fast. The eyes still glistened a bit with the remnants of the life that had left them dead. Dead as the fish she caught on her Aquas trips. Dead as anything left to the cold depths of space. Plenty of water on Aquas, no worries about falling off the boat there. But in space…

"Through the door. Through the goddamn door."

Pieter pulled himself through the doorway to data storage, forcing himself not to look at Terelli. He didn't need tears obscuring his vision along with everything else.

The station groaned around him as if in pain from its beating, its metal skeleton bending and straining. Pieter shuffled his way into he dark data storage room; the emergency light fixture had been broken by the tossed server banks that cluttered the floor and spewed sparks and electric smoke. A blue strobe effect from the sparks lit his trek through the room and threatened to illuminate two more bodies half-hidden by the avalanche of heavy equipment.

But Pieter jerked his head away. Only a trick of the light, he knew. If he didn't see them, they weren't there.

"One step at a time. Stay by the wall. Just hold on to the…to the…"

-

_Everyone just hold on! _

_-_

Flynn screamed in his head again, his phantom voice distorted by the station's intercom system. That had been the last thing Pieter heard before he cut through the data storage room to get to Deck Four, back when the station was more than a nightmare bathed in hellish, swimming red.

But he didn't hold on.

Some of it started to become clearer in his memory. He had punched the door's activation switch and kept running, sprinted past Terelli with only a passing shout for her to get to the escape pods, then down the stairs, then…

Then…

The station lurched, throttled by a heavy impact that interrupted the oppressive alarms for a split second. Pieter thought it was only in his memory at first but he found himself fighting to say on his feet in the present, the station's sorrowful groans growing in urgency. He threw himself against a water fountain and wrapped his arm around the pipe until the station settled again, still listing to its side but stable enough that he could move

His nerves shattered by the deterioration around him, Pieter struggled forward with short, rasping breaths and a heart that felt able to pound through his ribs. He tried to speak again, to take command of himself, but his choked throat refused him. Instead, he kept his eyes ahead and forced his himself just one more step after the last, his lungs burning with the effort of fighting the lopsided station with his exhausted body.

Just one more step…

And one more.

Almost there.

He fell against the door to Command and Control, his knees buckling and his concussion catching up with him. The door was stuck a few inches from the frame, the activation switch dull and cracked. Pieter wedged his shoulder as far between the door and frame as possible and pushed with all the strength he had left, his muscles ready to give out any moment. Eyes squeezed shut and teeth grinding with the effort, he finally felt the door give a little then shoot open as the hydraulics kicked in, sending him careening to the floor.

-

_Usual report then._

_Wait a minute—_

_Adjust scan range, focus in on that ion trail. What is that? Can you make anything out of—_

_Oh, dear God._

_-_

Pieters eyelids fluttered open, his vision filled with the metal floor. Feeling like every planet of Lylat had been strapped to his arms and legs, he heaved himself onto his back and panted. Did he black out? How long had it been? For a moment, he hoped it was all a bad dream, that he would wake up back on Deck Four like he did the first time only everything would be okay. Maybe he just tripped and took a nasty spill, or clonked himself on the head going through that damn low doorway to the access tube.

Maybe Terelli would be there to wake him up and stroke his head.

But her gentle voice wasn't coaxing him awake. No…

He had been pulled back into cruel reality by those goddamn alarms filling his head. He could see the swirling red lights even if he closed his eyes. They wouldn't let him go, wouldn't let him escape into unconsciousness.

More voices filled his head, fought with the throbbing pain for the right to torment him. But this time they didn't fade away; they kept buzzing through the air during the moments between alarm blares, indecipherable and faint. Pieter forced his eyes open and struggled to his knees, letting his eyes take in the ravaged Command and Control. Like the bridge on a capital ship, it was set up in tiers of terminals and workstations with a wide window comprising the far wall, but the blast shield had been lowered over it, blocking out any view of space. Pieter didn't mind that at all.

He stumbled past his own post on the second tier and nearly tripped again on something in his way.

"Flynn?"

The avian lay smoldering, his red feathers blackened by severe electrical burns. The pungent smell of charred flesh burned Pieter's nose and caused him to gag as he staggered past his friend's body and collapsed against the comm station terminal at the far end of the tier.

The voices…

Pieter realized he was hearing comm chatter, though he couldn't make out anything anyone was saying. It didn't matter. He fell to his knees where the chair should have been and let his hand fall on the call button.

"This is…is…" Who is this? "…Sergeant Karlov. Pieter Karlov. Of, uh…Recon Station Tethys. Is anyone out there?"

Just voices. Voices and alarms.

"Repeat…Station Tethys…mayday, mayday. Need assistance."

Pieter slumped against the console, the cacophony of jumbled voices mocking him. He didn't even know if the comms still worked.

After a few heavy blinks, his eyes fell on the blast door release switch near Flynn's body at the commander's station.

-

_Adjust scan range, focus in on that ion trail. What is that? Can you make anything out of—_

_Oh, dear God._

_Venomian transponder! How in the hell—Shit!_

_That was a hit! We gotta…oh, dear God, I don't know…we gotta…_

_Flynn, the guns aren't powered up yet!_

_Screw the guns! Do you see that thing?!_

_-_

"What are you?" Pieter whispered to the closed blast shield.

He crawled to Flynn's body and pushed the shield release, desperate to see what his memory tried so hard to keep hidden. Slow and torturous, the reinforced metal lifted from the window, allowing more color into the room besides the red. Pieter felt darkness around his eyes, unconsciousness again coming for him, but he fought it to face whatever brought this all upon him

As the shield rose halfway and continued upward, the chaotic voices from the comm station stopped. After an eerie, empty moment, a female voice replaced them, clear as if she stood right beside Pieter, somehow even making the alarm seem submissive. She spoke and the chill of her voice froze his spine, accenting the dread of the vision that awaited him beyond the shield.

_"You are the first, but you will not be the last. Venom screams. Hear her now."_

Pieter trembled at what he saw and, with the last fragile remnants of hope shattered, he allowed his final tears to come.

He never saw the blast that finally silenced the alarms forever.

-

* * *

-

_"James, shh…look. He fell asleep with his head on my lap."_

_"Poor kid. Too much studying. Uh oh, take that little Arwing out of his hand before he rolls over on it and stabs himself."_

_"I wish you showed it to me before giving it to him; it's dangerous with all these pointed edges."_

_"He's grown-up enough for it."_

_A gentle hand stroked the fur between Fox's ears._

_"Our little boy really is growing up, isn't he? Pretty soon I won't be able to hold him like this."_

_"He'll always be our son. I just wish I didn't have to be away from home so much. Seems like every time I come back he's a couple inches taller."_

_"He always looks forward to seeing you again. Speaking of which, we better get him to bed. Don't want him too tired for your trip into the city tomorrow."_

_"I'll take him, go on ahead and get his pajamas out."_

_Fox felt a gentle caress over his shoulder as his mother lowered him into James' arms._

_"So precious."_

_His mother's beautiful voice._

_Through the dreamy haze, he could see her standing over him._

_His mother's face._

_Dianus' face…_

Her caustic voice.

"Fox…"

Fox shot his arms up and grabbed Dianus around the throat, squeezing the life out of his attacker, his furious eyes blurring in the rush of fear and hate. She didn't fight back, didn't seem affected at all, but he kept trying to strangle the dark, ghostly form.

Then she spoke, her voice clear. "I'm unfamiliar with this greeting, sir."

Not his mother.

Fox realized his chest was heaving, his lungs burning. As he blinked, clearing the dusky haze and sweat from his eyes, he saw Robin leaning over his bed, her eyes wide in surprise at the powerful hands wrapped around her neck. After a few moments and a few glances around to reorient himself, Fox released her and let his head hit the pillow once more with a sigh. He rubbed his eyes and groaned on a parched throat.

"I apologize for entering your room while you're sleeping, sir, but the images you requested have been found. Are you well? I detect heightened tension and anxiety."

"I'll live." Fox swung his legs to the side and sat up, fumbling for the mug of coffee on his bedside table. The few gulps left had gone ice cold, but he didn't care; a few sips helped quell the fire in his throat. "Sorry about that. You okay?"

"Quite, sir." Robin smiled her trademark smile and smoothed the fur on her neck where a normal person would be already bruising. "It would take significantly more strength to damage the equipment housed in my synthetic larynx and tracheal regions. Not to imply you're weak, of course. Your strength is even respectable, for a body as inherently fragile as that of your organic biological classification."

Fox chuckled lightly, wiping cold sweat from his forehead. "You're a real sweet-talker, you know that?"

"Mister Lombardi has also said as much."

"I bet he has. You said you got those pictures?"

The white leopardess laid a thin stack of glossy page-sized photographs on the scattered pile at the foot of Fox's bed. "They don't seem to offer too much more, I'm afraid."

Fox scooted down to where he had been sitting and studying before accidentally dozing off and shuffled through the new pictures. Each one had been taken at some point during the battle for the Vanguard from the INH's weapon tracking system, kept in a backup data server for effectiveness analysis. Slippy probably would've known about the system sooner but Fox had no clue about any behind-the-scenes techno-garbage before Robin had mentioned it as part of the ship's first combat evaluation.

But he didn't care about any of that; all he cared about were what the cameras captured.

Fox's hope rapidly evaporated as he perused the pictures: shots of the Arwings, shots of the combat with the Sand Spiders, shots of the aftermath of the INH's devastating main cannon…everything but what he was looking for.

"Here, look. Right here." Fox held up the last picture and pointed to his own ship tangling with a Sand Spider. "I remember that move, it was right before he showed up. That damn ghost Arwing should be _right there_. But he's not."

"Sir, the bridge showed no sign of the fighter you describe. That Sand Spider could have collided with debris or been hit by an errant turret laser, or any number of anomalies. I detected no other life signs in the combat zone."

"Yeah, so you keep telling me. But I know what I saw." Fox threw the pile of photos down in frustration and rubbed his eyes again, feeling the beginnings of a headache muster behind them. "We've seen it before. The Vanguard's seen it. What, are you telling me we're all hallucinating?"

"I can only offer the logical deduction, sir. The bridge scanners were functioning, so if they did not detect a craft, either it was not there or it contains stealth technology that does not officially exist. I've been uploaded with all previous mission debriefs from the Vanguard and they certainly present an interesting quandary. I can only offer a few possible solutions, sir: either the Arwing, itself the greatest rarity in modern flight, possesses aforementioned technology that enables it to hide all scan traces and life signs and disappear visually at will, or everyone who has seen the Arwing shares a collective schizophrenia the likes of which have never been medically recorded. I somewhat doubt the latter, though."

"Or this damned, dark corner of the Lylat system really is haunted," Fox mumbled. "Jumbled life signs, disappearances, floating around and freaking people out…sounds like a ghost to me. A ghost who can shoot." He stared at the top photo where the Arwing should have appeared and saw it in his mind, saw the phantom boost past him for only a blink of the eye. "A ghost who's not done in this life yet."

Robin's brow furrowed in confusion. "My personality analysis did not label you as prone to superstition, sir. Do you indeed believe this Arwing to be supernatural in nature?"

"A person can be a ghost without being dead. Everyone just has to think he is."

The synthetic leopardess nodded. "Am I correct in deducing from past interactions that you believe the pilot of this Arwing to perhaps be your father?"

"If I said yes, I'd be crazy. You know why too, if you saw all the old briefs."

"Indeed, sir. You found James McCloud's destroyed Arwing on Venom. He claims to have killed himself over guilt from his betrayal. No other Arwings exist, certainly not ones with more advanced technology than what you own. The Papetoon facility on Titania was only a research site; no working Arwings were produced there."

"Right, so who's piloting this thing? What is it? What does it want?"

"If I may, sir." Robin gathered up the photos and tapped them on the foot of the bed to nudge them into a neat pile, then replaced them on the mattress, as if the messy spread bothered her. "Part of my function is to look after the crew of this fine ship as well as the ship itself, and I must suggest that if this foray into sleuthing is distressing you to the point of nightmares, perhaps you should abandon the pursuit."

"Nightmares?" Fox gave a sardonic chuckle. "What gave it away, the attempted strangling?"

"A violent awakening is quite understandable, given the levels of rapid eye movement and bodily reaction I detected."

"Well believe it or not, it wasn't a nightmare. Not at first anyway." He tried to find the right words to explain what he'd experienced. "I dunno…you ever have a dream about something really pleasant, so you feel worse when you wake up from it and realize it wasn't real? Can that be called a nightmare?" He remembered who he was talking to and shook his head with a grunt. "Never mind. What would you know about dreams?"

"Nothing from experience, of course. But I do wonder how a pleasant dream could cause ill feelings. Was it something you desire that could never be attained?"

"No." Fox shook his head, uncomfortable with the train of thought that led back to his dream, perhaps because it was more memory than illusion, a vision of his childhood that seemed as distant and false as any other midnight fantasy. "I used to have this little silver Arwing, a gift from my father. It was lost when the Great Fox went down. I always kept it near because it reminded me of my parents; dad always wanted me to follow in his footsteps and mom…Vixy…" It felt good to think of her with that name again rather than Dianus, even if only for a fleeting moment. "…she always worried about me and worked so hard to take care of me alone when dad was away on jobs. I just can't understand how I could have been so wrong. How could the woman I remember turn into this demon? How could she become Dianus?"

"Andross was a man of staggering intellect, sir. He knew how to use his influence. The organic mind is able to be reprogrammed and manipulated, much like my own, under the right circumstances."

Fox glanced at the drawer of his bedside table where he had slipped the recording of Dianus' message to him; though he wanted to destroy it, a part of him he couldn't understand wanted to keep it. "Do you think everything she said was true? Do you think she's so far gone that she feels nothing for me?"

"Yes, sir, I do." Robin's neutral face fell a bit after her immediate response. "I apologize for my candor, sir, but that is indeed my conclusion based on the facts given."

Fox just nodded and lowered his eyes to the pile of photos.

The leopardess stood still, her expression returning not quite to its neutrality but rather a countenance of thought, a look Fox had seen when she analyzed combat data or sifted through new data files uploaded to her neural system. After a minute of silence, she spoke: "I believe I now understand the nature of this type of nightmare, sir; the inverse relationship between pleasance and despair. Organics are a brave species to cope with such an affliction."

Fox stole a look at her then tapped on the photo once more. "I don't know if that's him. And if it is him, I don't know what he wants. But if I had to stick a month's pay on it, I'd bet he's not here to haunt anyone. He's here because he's the one being haunted. If there's a single shred of the McCloud name left in him, he's here because of Dianus. I bet he's waiting for her, just like me. He's waiting to stop her."

"What of your father's own betrayal, sir? I believe you once mentioned that you couldn't forgive him for it, despite him aiding you in escaping Andross' headquarters."

"Yeah, I know. He also snapped out of it at the last second and destroyed the Papetoon base before Andross could get working Arwings; you know all that, you've seen my debrief of what I found at his crash site on Venom. But he still signed on with that piece of shit ape to begin with." Fox paused and looked away from the photo to Robin's eyes; he didn't know what they were made of but TDE did a great job giving them a lively impression. "Let me ask you…if I came to you and said I wanted to hire a new team member with a track record like my father's, what would your recommendation be?"

"Assuming the speculations and claims that James McCloud made are true, and taking into account his history from Starfox's inception to his death…I would warn you that you'd be taking a risk hiring a man with fluctuating loyalties. I would recommend against it. However, I've not properly examined his present status, what with his being dead."

Fox drained the last of the cold coffee, scrunching his muzzle at the taste. "You know, that reminds me of something Fara told me when we were flying together to the Project Siren base. I was still shaken about what I'd almost done to her at the TDE station and she told me something. She said, 'A person's character can be identified less from what he does than what he refuses to do.' I don't know if I can ever forgive dad for what he did, but in the end there were some things he refused to do for Andross. I guess that counts for something."

Robin nodded. "Indeed, from an organic perspective. But my recommendation would not change. Loyalty is the greatest asset, masterful pilot though he may have been. Though it would be a shame to have to forego such mastery."

"Yeah." Fox laughed under his breath, hiding its bitter tinge. "I don't think I'll ever be as good a pilot as he was. He'd let me watch him and Starfox train when I was a kid; you should've seen him, he could make an Arwing really dance like you wouldn't believe. I'd sit on the hood of the car in the parking lot near the academy test flight fields and me and mom would look up and…" He stopped short, the memory retreating from his mind once his mother's happy face joined his younger self. A sudden empty pit formed in his stomach where the memory had been comforting him before it vanished and he cleared his throat to try and shake away the pang. He concluded flatly with, "Anyway, he was a good pilot. Dad's skill was on a whole other plane above what I can do."

"You sound fond when you speak of the past, sir."

"Memories are all I have left of my family, even more so now than when I thought they were dead." Fox scooped up the pictures and handed them to his robotic assistant. "Get rid of these; they're useless now. We'll have to wait for the Arwing to make the next move."

"Understood, sir. If I may inquire, what do you suppose—?"

The leopardess' question was cut off as Falco burst through the open doorway, his eyes gleaming and his beak turned up in a half-suppressed grin of anticipation. His teammates had all learned to recognize the face, like a child in the backseat of a car being driven to an amusement park. Fox hopped to his feet, knowing already why the avian had come running, but Robin tilted her head and waited for him to speak.

"Vanguard's on the horn. Let's get ready to light 'em up; the bitch is back!"

-

* * *

_1307 hours local_

-

Fox found the Vanguard in a state of palpable anxiety as he hurried from the hangar to the briefing room; soldiers rushed in full gear through the corridors, dodging equally urgent technicians and crewmen weighed down with repair gear. Voices spoke and sometimes shouted rapidly into comms, the loudspeakers called for squads and crews of various branches to report to their stations, and everywhere Fox looked he saw faces firm with tension, eyes shadowed with uneasiness. Such a different scene from the confidence he first saw when the monstrous ship set out from Corneria what seemed like eons ago.

He arrived at the briefing room that was quickly starting to feel like his second home and found that McGarret had pared down the guest list from the previous briefing; only the first tier was occupied, and only with the special operations crew. All three Dagger members sat next to Bill Grey and his Husky pilots, with Lieutenant McCullen of the 3rd Marines beside them. Admiral McGarret stood at the podium, already speaking when the mercenary entered, but he halted long enough to impatiently gesture for the fox to take a seat.

"That's everyone," the old wolf said as Fox slid into the chair beside Gage. "I was just telling everyone about the state of the Vanguard, McCloud. No doubt you've seen that things aren't quite ship-shape yet. She's still got plenty of fight left in her but she needs another few days' worth of repairs…and we're out of time. The crew's preparing for combat but you all here are going to get into the fight a little early. We need all the help we can get. One way or another, I believe this battle will end the Vanguard's tour of duty in Venom space. After that we'll see whether we can return home or face a second Lylat War."

McGarret punched up a thermal satellite image of a cylindrical space station between two familiar planets. "This is LDC Reconnaissance Station Tethys, an early warning post between Aquas and Zoness. Nearly two hours ago, communications ceased. A half hour later a comm station on Zoness received a mayday from a Sergeant Pieter Karlov. Nothing more was heard. Thermal scans just after his last transmission showed this."

The image flipped over to another from the same angle, except the station had disappeared, replaced by red blots stretching the length of the image.

"Holy hell," Bill breathed. "There's at least four Venomian capital ships along with the Titan."

"Correct." McGarret pointed toward the massive red rectangle in the middle. "As we feared, Dianus does indeed possess a fully functional Titan, able to rival the Vanguard. Its transponder identifies it as the Venomian Imperial Ship Atlas. As of a half hour ago, the _VIS Atlas_ and its escorts have been confirmed as the destroyers of the Tethys station. Within the hour, they'll pass Aquas and Zoness and be within striking distance of the Vanguard. I believe Dianus intends to hit us while we're weak, attempting to eliminate Lylat's greatest naval defense.

"The good news is that the Vanguard's back in decent shape with the help of Toad's technicians. The backup jump drive has been installed and most turrets have been replaced. We're still not optimal but we're not a sitting duck either. We'll be ready for the Atlas, or at least ready to hold her at bay until Captain Birse's team completes its mission. So let's get to it."

The image changed to a surprisingly different scene: a wide, massive skyscraper that occupied its own circle in the midst of a city. The streets looped around the grassy circle, ringing the park-like zone the skyscraper rested upon. Tastefully artistic statuary and stairs surrounded the building and a fountain graced its north side, adorned by flags from the allied nations of the LDC. The high-rise, all reflective glass and steel, gleamed in the sunlight. It looked expensive enough to belong to Beltino, but the corporate emblem carved into the fountain face was not his.

"This modest little structure in the metropolis of Macbeth City is the galactic corporate headquarters for Artemis Biotech, one of Macbeth's wealthiest corporations. Beltino worked with Intel to cross-reference all the materials Dianus would need for the Atlas and Project Siren and found that Artemis had been pretty busy buying them up over the past five years. And while Artemis produces basic biotechnical products, there's nothing in its log that uses these materials. Using the Bolse defense station data Captain Birse and Mister Lombardi retrieved, Beltino tried synchronizing the signal with Artemis' outputs and sure enough, they matched. Artemis is a front for Dianus; she built the corporation and has been using it to acquire materials and funding unnoticed. Our theory was made fact around the same time the Atlas destroyed Tethys; MCPD units responded to a call of gunfire and found the Artemis HQ under lockdown, soldiers firing at anything that came near it, civilian and police alike. Military-grade hardware."

"Why would she fortify that building?" Gage asked. "It served its purpose, what other need does she have for it?"

"If the Bolse signals synced up, that means the control system for the Bolse cannon is housed in that building. That cannon is devastating, as we all saw when it destroyed the Great Fox. With it, Venom is secure from immediate attack. I have no doubt that when the Atlas arrives, it will attempt to taunt us within range. At the very least, it'll provide safe haven for the Atlas and its escorts to retreat should they suffer damage. To put it bluntly, it's a pain in the ass and could tear us up if they get lucky with it or use it to defend their ships. That goddamn cannon's been an obstacle since day one and I want it out of my combat area. But not before we use it to level the playing field a little, give Dianus a little pain in the ass herself. We're going to let her think she's slowly drawing us closer to its range, but then we're going to turn it against her. More accurately, Dagger's going to."

Ley's brow shot up. "Sir?"

McGarret hesitated and cleared his throat. "It's not an order I like giving, so I'll just get it out of the way. Triangulating the signal, Beltino placed the Bolse command station on the thirtieth floor. I need Dagger to infiltrate this building, seize control of that room, and turn Bolse against the Atlas and the Project Siren installation. We'll need its help to take down Dianus' fleet, and we need those Sirens destroyed in case we're pushed back. If Lylat is pulled into a second war, an army of clone killers will make things significantly more difficult. McCloud's report of the facility's reinforced structure makes it uncertain whether the Bolse cannon can penetrate deep enough and hit hard enough to make its support pillar buckle, but the cannon is our best bet at putting a halt to those Sirens, or at least causing enough damage to slow production."

The image gave way to a holographic display of the skyscraper and its surroundings from the projector on the ground before the podium. A red pulse marked the Bolse control room, with two dotted lines descending from above to make contact with the sides of the building.

"Time is something we don't have, so you'll need to be more direct with your approach than usual. You'll be inserted via guided escape pod from here on the Vanguard. Our best tech will guide you right through the east side of the building onto the thirtieth floor, give or take. They'll never see it coming. Your two teammates, Braddock and Tien, are en route from Corneria already and will be inserted at the same time through the west side. You'll converge on the control room and protect Tien while he takes control of Bolse and operates it. He's being briefed on how to do that as we speak. This is _not_ a stealth op, as you can see by your insertion method. You need to hit them hard and fast."

Red boxes appeared to the south of the building, near the border of where the holograph ended.

"Lieutenant McCullen and the 3rd Marines will drop in a stadium parking lot sixteen blocks south of your position shortly after your infiltration. Intel anticipates Venomian reinforcements once they realize their Bolse control is being threatened, so the marines will set up a perimeter and close in on your position. We're not sure what forces Dianus has in the area; keep in comm contact and play it by ear. Captain Birse, once your mission is complete, destroy the Bolse control room and hunker in until the 3rd reaches you." McGarret hesitated again. "I know this is a very uncertain, dangerous plan but Dianus' attack has called for desperate measures. And that's what Dagger does best. I'm not gonna blow sunshine up your ass, captain. You'll be completely on your own, behind enemy lines, and without any option for extraction should the mission go wrong. I don't like it, son, but that's how it has to be and I trust you to get the job done. I don't need to tell you what's riding on your success."

"Yes, sir," Gage replied with a degree of confidence, though his pursed lips and a slight frown hinted at his worry over the mission. "Sir, if I may…Doctor Toad brought with him a little tool to offer us. I didn't want to use it, but given the nature of this operation—"

"I'm aware of the Paladin armor, captain." McGarret met the fox's eyes, his own hiding his dissatisfaction with what he was requesting of his soldiers. "I'm sorry to have to put is so bluntly, but Intel doesn't want to take the risk. We're all relatively certain you and your men are capable of reaching the control room with the element of surprise. Though the Paladin may greatly assist in your survival after your mission is complete, Intel doesn't want to risk the mission itself with untested equipment."

Fox scoffed, his mouth agape. "Are you kidding? Throw them in there to get the job done then leave them to die, depending on whether the 3rd _maybe_ gets to them in time? No help, no nothing?"

The admiral narrowed his eyes. "This is the real military, McCloud, not your merry little band of media heroes. We don't get the option of turning down jobs we don't like. If it means preventing a second Lylat War, that's worth every life on this ship, and you and I are no exception. You got that?"

Fox scowled and opened his mouth to speak again but Gage's hand gently squeezing his forearm stopped him. The fellow fox gave him a sideways look and subtle shake of the head.

"I understand, sir," the captain said with a somber visage. "We'll get it done."

Ley shared his subdued worry, her eyes downcast at her knees and her fingers rapidly strumming her leg. Delaine's right hand had found its way to the neck of shirt and had clasped the cross pendant he kept on a chain.

"I'll have a comm officer on standby to receive updates and send you any relevant developments. Your full details will be waiting for you after we're done here," McGarret continued. "Godspeed, Dagger."

"Where do I fit into this?" Fox asked, still annoyed.

"You don't. You'll be part of the attack on the Atlas, but I called you here because I have special orders for you. If what Dianus said on her recording was true, she may reveal herself during the course of the battle, perhaps to you specifically. And Intel believes that if anyone other than you were to go after her, she may close herself off again. So you have a standing order that if Dianus in any way gives a hint as to her location, you're to break off from the battle and take her down. Is that clear?"

"You don't think she'll be onboard the Atlas?"

"All she's done is command and manipulate from afar during this entire conflict. Intel doesn't think she's a 'field commander' type." The wolf scowled. "Used to be two opposing admirals could look each other in the eye from their bridges and fight with a degree of honor. War ain't what it used to be."

"I'll find her," Fox assured," and I'll take her down. What about during the battle? Do you want us on the offensive in support of the LDC attack cruisers?"

McGarret shook his head with a sardonic grunt and looked down at the podium, idly flicking off switches to dissipate the images of the Artemis high-rise. Finally, he said, "There's no word on LDC reinforcements. Every planet's so damn worried about reinforcing its own defense grid that they've run out of active duty naval vessels to send our way. They're scrambling to bring reserves online but no ETA yet. The best we'll have is a few squadrons and light frigates from Zoness, Macbeth, and Corneria. Some mercenaries and freelancers we've hired over the past few hours also. The LDC has ordered that we pull back nearer to Solar until our repairs are complete, but that will leave Macbeth open to bombardment from the Atlas." He looked up from the podium. "So we're not doing that. We're making our stand here. The LDC can join the battle when they hike up their diapers and toddle on over here."

Fox nodded, imagining his expression looked much like Dagger's.

"Starfox will assist the frigates and mercenaries in taking down the Atlas' escort cruisers. Once Dagger's knocked a few Bolse shots into the Atlas, we'll all focus our efforts on taking it down. You'll receive clearer orders along with the other mercs once you're in the air. Any questions from anyone?"

No response.

"This may be the most difficult battle any of us have ever been through. For Lylat's sake, we better be up to it. Dismissed."

The air heavy, Fox followed Dagger toward the door while McCullen stayed behind to talk about something or another with the admiral. He caught Gage's arm and held him back for a moment so he could steal a word in private.

"You all gonna be okay?" he asked once everyone was out of earshot. "I'm not a ground attack expert but that mission looks like a little too much for even Dagger to bite off and chew."

"This is how things work," Gage replied. "When the shit hits the fan and there's no time for a more airtight plan, they drop us in and we improvise. That's what we train for. That's why we get paid the big bucks."

"Bull. I saw you and Ley and Delaine. None of you like this."

The captain glanced to the door where his team had departed. "You've flown hundreds of hours, dozens of combat scenarios. You still get that little pit in your gut before each job? You still need to take a deep breath or two before strapping yourself in?"

"Sure, a little."

"Dagger's no different. We're not fearless, we just keep fear in check rather than letting it take root. Ley, Delaine…they're just mentally preparing. It happens before every mission; each of us does it in our own way. We knew what we were signing up for when we joined Dagger."

Fox sighed. "I hate it when you talk like that. CASOC may see you as dispensable, even you may see yourself that way, but you're still a friend to me first and foremost. I don't want this to be the last time I see you. I don't think Fara sees you as dispensable either."

"I know. But if Dagger fails its job down there, there won't be a Vanguard or a Fara to come home to. That sort of shaves away most of the fear."

A clap on Gage's shoulder interrupted any response Fox could've had. He turned to see McCullen offer his hand in passing and gave a hard shake.

"Good luck, captain," the lynx said. "My boys'll be there for you. You got my word."

He disappeared through the door, leaving Gage to chuckle under his breath and shake his head.

"A promise from a field-promoted Academy officer," he muttered with a roll of his eyes. "I feel safer already."

-

* * *

-

"Report."

McGarret sat in the commander's chair on the bridge, looking distantly ahead into space, his eyes lost amongst the stars and subdued concerns over the battle ahead. He rested his head on his hand and stroked the fur under his ear with his index finger, waiting and hoping that everything had at least started well.

Ensign Dugan cleared his throat and read from his datapad. "Dagger's prepped and secured in the pod, awaiting launch orders. All hired fighters have been accounted for and have taken up formation with the LDC frigates. The Vanguard's shields have been restored to ninety percent, and gun capacitors brought up to eighty. The 3rd Marine dropships are awaiting Dagger's launch. All elements are go. The Venomian fleet is maintaining its course directly for us."

McGarret nodded and said nothing.

Dugan brought his fist to his mouth and coughed. "Sir, if I may make a suggestion…the crew's been working hard and they're worried. No one knows what's going to happen. A word or two from you might make a difference."

The admiral looked up at the ensign standing beside him and saw hints of that same worry at the corners of his eyes. Though even his own morale felt crushed by the weight of the task before them, he remembered the talk he had with Captain Birse and felt a touch of shame that his own advice had managed to slip by him, even if only for a short time, such that he had allowed his crew to become so beleaguered. He nodded and stood before turning to Dugan and saying, "Tell the comm officer to put me through to the entire ship and every allied vessel and fighter."

The aide hurried to the tier below while McGarret affixed his comm unit to his ear and wondered what he could possibly say. Before he could muster the words, the unit clicked in his ear, signaling his connection.

"Attention, please. This is Admiral McGarret. I have something I'd like to say to all of you."

But what? As the old wolf searched for words, he looked down and saw every crewman on the bridge looking back at him, their eyes unblinking and rapt. He could practically feel the silence all throughout the Vanguard, and suddenly his mind was empty of obstacles.

-

_We all remember a time when days like this were normal. We remember a time when we lost friends every day, when each morning brought with it more gunfire, more blood, and more pain. We remember a time when we fought for our homes, when we feared for our families, when we battled for the survival of our way of life. Those of you too young to have fought in the Lylat War know all this as well, for civilians were not spared. The galaxy crumbled around you. It crumbled around all of us._

_And we all remember._

_Anyone who lives through a war wonders at one time or another if there was anything that could've been done to prevent it. We wonder how it could have come to such a tragedy. And then we wonder if there was anything we could have done better as soldiers, if we could have saved more lives or summoned up just a bit more courage when it was needed most, or if only we knew our friends would be killed so we could push them to safety or at least say goodbye. Wars end, but their legacies are burned into the minds of those they touch._

_We all wonder what more we could have done._

_All of you: Cornerian marines, Katinian pilots, crewman and soldiers of every allied planet who have come together under the banner of the LDC Vanguard, I'm telling you now that the time has come to put your thoughts to the test! Within the hour, we will all have the chance to do what we wish we could have done the first time! We will have a chance to stop a war before it engulfs our friends, our homes, our families, and the futures of those we love!_

_Make no mistake. We face a difficult battle against an unyielding enemy every bit as merciless as Andross. Every man and woman will need to give everything of themselves to this fight. Every pilot will need to strike with fury and grace. Every child of the free planets of Lylat must remember why we fight._

_And I have confidence in this crew and these pilots, because I know that you all remember. None can forget what followed the last time Venom's forces spread to the rest of Lylat._

_But that will not happen again. Venom will never again find a weak Lylat to prey upon._

_Because this time, when they come to conquer and kill, they will find _us_ standing before them! They will find the people of Lylat have banded together and said no, you will _not_ bring another war to our homes, to our families, to our people! They will find a Lylat that remembers the nightmare they brought the first time, people who will fight them to their dying breaths with all the wrath of Heaven and Hell to prevent it from happening again! Never again will Venomian fear weaken the Lylat people's will!_

_Today, the regrets and scars of the past end! Today, we stand up to Venom and send them a message: that we are the Vanguard, we are Lylat's shield, and we will never let them threaten our galaxy again!_

_Man your posts…and remember why we fight._

_-_

_**-Chapter 22 Coming Soon-**_


	29. Lylat's Stand: Dagger

[Author's note: Apologies for the abnormally long time since my last update. Lots of things going on right now in everyday life, not to mention this chapter is gargantuan, nearly double the size of a regular chapter. I would've normally split it up but it's already part of a little mini-series here so splitting it would make things more complicated. To explain that last part, I wish to show this battle from the perspectives of the different operation theaters, so this chapter is solely Dagger's contribution while the next chapter will be solely Fox's perspective. So grab a drink and settle in, this one's longer than normal, but hopefully most readers will see that as a good thing. =) Thanks for reading as always, and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 22  
Lylat's Stand - Part One: Dagger  
Operation Javelin  
_LDC Vanguard - Pod Bay  
1402 hours Macbeth City local  
_

_-  
_

Gage always hated the drops.

Rapid insertion maneuvers were harsh enough on his stomach in a special forces dropship, but they seemed smooth as a drive in the country compared to what escape pods could do. Maybe the nature of the upcoming mission had a hand in his unsettled gut, maybe somewhere in the back of his mind he still worried about Fara, or maybe he just didn't like starting a mission by having his stomach fly up into his throat.

_"Operation Javelin green-lighted," _the guidance technician's voice in his earpiece reported. _"Final systems check."_

Gage looked around the escape pod, itself no bigger than Fara's containment cube. He and his team sat against the walls with rigid shoulder harnesses locking them in place and their weapons secured in the brackets beside the seats. Ley looked back at him with eyes of steel flame, her confidence unwavering, while Delaine merely gave him a nod of readiness and let his calm eyes descend to the empty seat across from him. Each Dagger soldier wore their own customized combat armor and helmet; black and gray ablative plates, shoulder pads, wrist guards, knee and elbow pads, and shin plates. Delaine had done away with the shoulder pads and right wristguard to keep his shooting form unhindered while Ley, always averse to being weighted down and inflexible, wore only the vest and knee and elbow pads, and grudgingly took a helmet on her captain's command. Being point man and primary assault, Gage opted for the full loadout.

He had almost forgotten the feeling of wearing full combat armor into the field; given Dagger's covert nature, not many missions called for protection over stealth. Wearing anything more than his standard vest and pads always gave him an odd feeling, as if the more armor he put on the more vulnerable he felt, the more he expected to be shot. Most missions in his career, he and his soldiers were the predators, stalking the enemy like carnivores in the grass. A mission that ended without an opposing shot fired wasn't abnormal. But the armor sat heavily upon his shoulders, reminding him that if McGarret's briefing had been accurate, he may very well need it this time.

Some of his pre-launch jitters were allayed as he let his finger rub the cool metal of the pistol in his holster. Rather than his usual sidearm, Fara had talked him into taking her SEC-29. Gage didn't like the Venomian pistol as much as his mainstay but he took it if only to have a bit of her with him on the mission. She had even carved a rough, awkward phoenix in the frame to make the pistol distinctly hers, and to poke fun at the codename/surname the Vanguard had given her. Gage thought of her as his fingertip followed the curved, fiery wings and he was glad he took it along.

_"All systems go. Stand by for launch. Good luck, Dagger."_

"All aboard the FUBAR Express," Ley muttered. "Next stop: Macbeth City. You know, I think if the passengers have less than a thirty percent chance of returning alive, they should at least throw in a free meal."

Gage took a deep breath of the stale, warm recycled air and slowly let it out. "I don't think we'd be much better off staying on the Vanguard. Which would you prefer, sitting around on that giant can waiting for it to blow up or at least going down with your finger on the trigger, taking a load of the bastards with you?"

"No option C, huh?"

"We beat the odds lots of times. We can do it again." Gage refocused his mind on the mission; if he entertained even a moment's thought on the probability that he'd lose one or more of his teammates – friends – within the next few hours…

"Erica." Delaine's deep, subdued voice barely rose above the hum of the track gears sliding the pod into place. He kept his eyes on the seat across from him, and Gage could tell the wolf's mind was no more at ease than his teammates'. He hardly ever used first names. "There's a file in my secure CASOC network account, password GAL65. There's an address in there as well. Just send the file there. It's straightforward."

Ley cocked an eyebrow and glanced at Gage, who only shrugged. "Okay…" She frowned. "You're not pulling that 'if I don't make it back' crap on me, are you? Didn't we already have this debate a while ago about bad luck and tempting fate? I've seen this movie. I suppose next you're gonna tell me you have a girl you want to propose to when you get back, right after you sign your life insurance policy."

"Just remember it. Please. It's important."

Ley's frown deepened and she looked away. "Fine." The moments of disturbance written upon her face from the request quickly melted away and she leaned her head back against the seat's headrest, her eyes closed. "I guess I should thank you, actually."

"Why?"

A smirk flashed across her muzzle. "Because the poor sap's friend always makes it back okay."

_"Ten seconds."_

The three Dagger soldiers gripped the metal frames of their harnesses and tensed in anticipation.

_"Three…two…one…mark."_

Gage always hated the drops.

His breath cut short, his insides rolling as the pod launched away from the Vanguard. The burst thrusters roared in his ears and shook the pod so hard he couldn't focus his vision…if he felt like keeping his eyes open at all. Though pretty much every aspect and lesson of soldiering had evolved for him since the day-one basics, how to act in a combat drop remained constant: keep your limbs planted, remember to breathe, and don't worry about dying because there's nothing you can do anyway.

_"ETA three minutes. Guidance trajectory holding."_

Gage took deep breaths, a headache already forming behind his eyes from the violent quaking and velocity pressure. The turbulence only intensified as the pod broke Macbeth's stratosphere. Though he knew his team was painfully familiar with the plan after a dozen run-throughs back on the Vanguard, he raised his voice over the din and went over it again if only to keep their minds calm and focused.

"When we're down, establish a defensive perimeter around the pod! Once we have our bearings, we make contact with Tien and Braddock! Get to the control room and hold it until they get there! Once Tien's done, we hunker down and wait for McCullen's cavalry! We're going in hot; shoot anything that ain't civilian or Dagger! Don't get pinned down! Keep moving, keep it cool, and we'll make it out fine!"

_Assuming this flying coffin doesn't fall apart first, _he didn't add. He didn't receive acknowledgement from his team but probably wouldn't have known anyway with the noise and jumbled vision.

_"Dagger, be aware; we're receiving guidance interference on our end. You might get some more chop as we…what the hell?"_

Gage growled deep in his throat; he could've thought of better ways to begin a mission than the man guiding their fates saying, 'What the hell?'

The guidance technician's voice returned a few moments later, noticeably more alarmed. _"Vanguard guidance systems have been overridden, sir. It looks like you're headed a mile or two north of Artemis Tower. I'll do my best to stabilize your landing but my access is very limited. I'll inform the admiral and update you on the ground."_

Gage started to curse under his breath but worried more about staving off a blackout as the pod lurched to the side and gained a spurt of speed. The inside of the pod became awash with red light as the emergency beacons flickered, signaling an unsafe angle and speed for landing. He tried to speak and felt like his lungs were being squeezed by his ribs, but he finally forced out, "Control…report…pod's compromised…"

_"I read, Dagger! We've lost all control! Fifteen seconds 'til impact, hold on!"_

Gage rolled his aching eyes. Hold on…what the hell else could he do?

The retro-thrusters kicked in, adding to the noise, but the captain already knew it was too late. The pod tumbled and gyrated as it hit something – a skyscraper? A ship? – but it didn't stop, still plummeting to the ground. Gage clenched his eyes shut as his brain spun and waited for the final impact with the ground.

And waited…

-

* * *

-

"So then…not quite dead yet."

A voice. Gage opened his eyes and blinked past the blur to see a male jackal's rust-furred face, the amber eyes narrowing as he grinned humorlessly.

"But then, that's always an apt description for men like us."

Gage blinked again and pushed himself up on his elbows as the jackal turned and left him. A pit of fear from the unfamiliar setting and vulnerability grew in his gut and forced him to sit all the way up on the dirty cot beneath him despite the headache pounding his skull. Sweltering heat all around him didn't help. The headache…the last thing he remembered from the pod's landing.

The screwed landing…

"Where's my team?" the captain croaked on a hoarse throat as he stood, faltering at the wave of dizziness that overtook him. As he grasped the metal cot frame for support he saw that his armor and gear had been removed and tossed in a pile nearby.

The jackal sat at a grimy workbench, his back to his guest, against the adjacent wall, not far in the humid windowless, garage-sized room. Gage couldn't be sure he wasn't actually in a garage; a segmented rolling metal door comprised one wall while the other three were of similar rusted construction. A single cloudy bulb hung from the water-damaged ceiling, its light weak against the brown cement floor. Strewn about the confined space were small unmarked containers and parcels and bits of tech from any number of items. On one side of the workbench sat a computer holoscreen showing a blue security image, its glow almost outperforming the light bulb above. The jackal glanced over his shoulder and grunted a subdued chuckle, as humorless as his grin.

"You fail to disappoint, Longbow. People are rather boring once you get to know how they all tend to think. So sometimes I make little bets with myself, like what the first three questions out of their mouths would be. I figured you'd be the kind of man to ask about his team's safety first and foremost. Preacher and Starlet are fine; he's keeping an eye on things from the roof and she's gone out to scout my objective. Let's see if I was right about your next two questions also."

Gage didn't bother going for his gun in the pile of gear; if the jackal wanted him dead, he had every opportunity to do so. He decided to play along with the game, at least for the time being. "Where am I?"

"Very good. Get your bearings. Can't very well continue the mission if you don't know where it is. Honestly, that should have been your first question. Your teammates' lives are secondary to your job." The jackal held something up and blew dust away from it before lowering it back to the workbench, light metallic taps filling the air as he continued whatever he was doing with it. "You're on Macbeth, two-point-three miles north of Artemis Tower. This is a personal safehouse. Don't get comfortable; we're not staying long. Your little nap has cost us enough time. Well, go on…let's see if you can make it a hat trick."

The Dagger captain scowled, not caring for the patronizing tone. "Who are you?"

More low-pitched grunts, which Gage took to be laughing. "I win again. That's all you need to know, isn't it…where your pals are, where to go, and who to shoot at. The rest is just training, like a tamed hunting dog." The jackal swiveled his stool to face the fox; for the first time, Gage clearly saw that he wore white suit pants and a vest over a blue shirt and loosened white tie, each garment streaked and stained by dirt, grime, sweat, and anything else from the safehouse or outside. But the part that took him by surprise was the empty, black left eye socket that stared back along with its intact twin. The jackal bounced in his palm the item he had been working on – a false eye – and fitted it into the socket with a solid twist and thrust. A nearly inaudible mechanical click sounded as the eye activated and adjusted, becoming practically impossible to spot as a fake in a matter of seconds. "I'm an ally. That's enough for now."

Before the mysterious man could blink, Gage leapt at him and pulled him from the stool by his lapels, their muzzles a half inch apart and the fox's eyes burning. "I've got a real bad headache. And I don't like some asshole jerking me around and ordering _my_ team into the field. You better give me more than that."

The jackal's muzzle twisted in mild annoyance as if a ladybug had landed on his shirt. He glanced at one oppressive hand, then the other, and said, "That's not very wise, Longbow. I may not be a hunting dog like you, but I've prowled in the dark corners of the galaxy long enough to survive. Once you've gotten this little testosterone eruption out of your system, maybe we can get down to business."

After a few moments' penetrating stare, Gage let him down. "You're a spook, aren't you?"

The jackal straightened his shirt and vest. "What if I am? Would you believe me? I don't run around with my Cornerian Defense Intelligence Agency ID card in my wallet. If it's any help, I know everything about you, Longbow, from your shoe size to the locations of the seven scars you suffered during your escape from the POW camp as a private. So I'm either a Venomian spy or a CDIA agent. What do you think? What does that experienced hunter's nose of yours tell you?"

The fox narrowed his eyes and looked deep into the other man's, or at least his one natural eye. For nearly a minute the stuffy, roasting air stood still, dust flitting about in the dull light. Finally, his clenched right fist relaxed a bit and he turned toward his gear, keeping his head at such an angle that his peripheral vision could track the jackal's shadow movements. "Bit of a garish suit for a spook."

"These fine garments actually keep me blended in where it's needed most. Two months ago I was given an undercover assignment within Toad Development Industries to investigate Beltino and the workings of TDE. I'm posing as regional security director for a TDE research site here on Macbeth. I don't know what the man's obsession is with the white motif."

"You're investigating Beltino?" Gage knelt over his gear and began taking apart his rifle to ensure everything still worked after the rough landing…and wasn't tampered with. He also made sure, with a breath of relief, that Fara's pistol had survived. "What for?"

The agent sighed. "You know the most annoying part about having to work with you? Not the short-sightedness, not the tendency to screw up carefully-set investigations like the Leon Powalski situation, not even the dangerous military bravado. The most annoying part is that you have the proper security clearance to actually ask me that and receive an answer other than 'classified.' CASOC considers Dagger something more than glorified grunts, for some inexplicable reason."

Gage rolled his eyes as he pulled the detached trigger mechanism to ensure it moved smoothly. "You gonna tell me or not?"

The jackal sat back on the stool and swiveled once more to the workbench where he hunched over something else. "The CDIA had been curious of Artemis Biotech for a long time and suspected they were selling supplies to some kind of remnant Venomian force; rebels, terrorists, everyday business. We had a few agents keep tabs on them but Dianus covered her tracks beautifully; the connection between Artemis and its purpose as a front for Project Atlas wasn't made in time. We had no clue Andross' mysterious wife had self-exiled with so much manpower and tech after the Lylat War. The CDIA's been a madhouse over the past couple weeks. Two months ago, agents traced an Artemis call to Beltino Toad, demanding that he sell TDE tech to them. He declined, but the Agency wanted to keep an eye on him anyway to make sure. TDE tech in the wrong hands means trouble."

"He seemed pretty damn determined to take down Dianus last time I talked to him."

"No doubt. He's probably torn up about his son's death, not to mention the fact Dianus threatened him. Slippy Toad's death may not even have been coincidental. Regardless, the CDIA suspected a mole somewhere on the Vanguard, or closely connected to it. Perhaps there is, or perhaps Dianus really is just that clever, well-connected, and patient. God knows Andross was. But that's not my investigation; my directive was to ensure Beltino wasn't the leak. So I…nudged a little trickle of intel about Artemis Tower as the control station for the Bolse cannon. I formulated that the station was on the thirtieth floor, etcetera etcetera, whatever else he briefed you on. If you were sent elsewhere or given the wrong information, I'd know either Beltino or Admiral McGarret was a leak. But according to Starlet and Preacher, he was a good boy and gave it word for word. I haven't found anything suspicious about him over my two-month dig, and that heavy duty ship he gave McCloud was checked and passed by CDIA engineers, so he's clean as far as I'm concerned. A little eccentric, but no traitor. McGarret's clean too, but we never really suspected him. Higher-ups are more often the unwitting tools rather than the perpetrators. They—"

"Wait a minute." Gage slapped the last piece of his rifle into place and stood to look at the man's back. "The control station on the thirtieth floor is bullshit? You made it all up to trap a suspected mole? There's no way to hijack the Bolse cannon? The Vanguard's counting on that!"

"Relax, Longbow, Operation Javelin is well in-hand. There's an auxiliary station on the thirtieth floor, but the real Bolse override is in a bunker deep under Artemis Tower. You think Dianus would leave such a thing up there in the open? I took control of your pod's guidance and brought you here so I could fill you in and send you on your merry way to the right location. Sorry about the landing; nasty bump you got there. I was never much of a pilot." His dry voice conveyed almost amusement rather than any sympathy. "I'll give you the details on the way. We're just waiting for the rest of your team now. Prepare your equipment; we'll move as soon as they land."

"Shouldn't you be guiding their pod in also?"

The jackal shook his head. "They're going right where I need them."

Gage cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

"An attack on the thirtieth floor will draw most of the manpower and attention away from our route. We may even get in unnoticed. While your men Titan and Nexus play the punching bags, you three can accomplish your mission. I've been briefed on the station's operation; I can work the Bolse manipulation."

"Are you fucking nuts? You're gonna let them land on the thirtieth floor and hold out by themselves? They won't stand a chance!"

"They'll be filling a vital role," the jackal responded, nonchalantly wiping dust from the surface of the workbench. "We need the distraction for my plan to work."

"Forget it. You Intel assholes think you can screw us over at every turn, well I'm _not_ leaving my men to—"

The agent rose with a start and spun to confront Gage, standing tall before him, his lips pursed in flaring yet controlled annoyance. "Frankly, Longbow, I'm rather tired of tools that rebel against the hands that use them. Your job is to infiltrate, kill, and rescue. My job is to get the intelligence that tells you how, where, when, and to whom to do that. I can't do my job if the hunting dogs can't keep their eyes on the goal. The goal is to prevent a second Lylat War, and to do that we need the Bolse cannon to turn the tide of the Vanguard's battle. If that means I have to throw you and your men to the wolves, I'll do it in a heartbeat and not lose a wink of sleep."

"My team is _my _responsibility. We're all more than willing to give our lives, but we're trained to fight and adapt, not be thrown away by some smug asshole pulling strings."

"Don't come at me with your bluster and growling, captain; it doesn't hide anything. My plan is the only shot we have at taking Bolse, but you already know that. Like I said, I know all about you...especially you and Hellion. You lost a man and over a dozen hostages to them from a botched rescue mission. So you broke the golden rule…you made your teammates' safety personal. Since then you've surpassed all CASOC casualty projections by not losing a single other teammate. Well, good for you, la de da. But this isn't about whether you and your team are willing to give your lives for the mission. This is about whether _you_ are willing to give your teammates' lives for the mission. Because you're still CASOC property, I can't order you. All I can do is provide the intel and show the hunters where to hunt. Artemis Tower has blacked out the entire area's comm range, so we're on our own." The jackal glanced down at his watch. "Titan and Nexus are set to impact in six minutes."

As the agent turned away and sat back at the bench, Gage grimaced and looked down. He knew what had to be done; even as he was protesting it he knew. There was never another option; the mission's success took priority over everything, just as he himself told Fox back on the Vanguard. Part of him wished it was simple, just a matter of course like the jackal saw it. He pondered what Braddock and Tien would say to their fate. But then he realized that didn't matter – he couldn't let it matter; this was about him as the captain making the decisions that needed to be made.

"Why are you telling me all this?" he asked. "Every Agency man I ever met skirted the truth and relied on lies and manipulation. What's your angle?"

"Our angles are the same, Longbow. More than you know. I lie when I need to, when it suits my purpose. Maybe I don't need to hide truths this time because I already know your decision."

"Yeah? You think you know whether I'll follow you or not?"

"I wouldn't be very good at my job if I didn't." The jackal finished his tinkering at the workbench, what Gage finally saw to be a third-party mod jacked into a TDE datapad, and slipped it into his vest pocket. "So? Am I right yet again, or is my streak limited to three?"

With a frown of mixed concentration and uneasiness over the plan, Gage pulled his combat uniform top off and threw it on the cot before donning his armor vest over his black tank top, glad for the slight relief from the heat it provided. As he started on his gloves and belt harness, he asked gruffly, "What do I call you, or should I make up a name on the way? I don't think you'd like what I come up with."

The jackal stood with a small grin of satisfaction and retrieved his dirt-smeared white jacket from where it lay drooped over a container near the door. "You can call me Laren."

"Should I bother asking whether that's your real name?"

"About as real to me as Longbow is to Gage Birse. Which one is the real mask?" Laren slipped a leather shoulder holster over his arms and tested the tightness of the pistol it held before putting his jacket on over it. "You coming, or do I need to dangle a treat for you?"

Gage raised his eyes at the jackal with pursed lips and released the charging slide on his freshly-loaded handgun. It snapped into place with a sharp mechanical clank that pierced the air.

Laren sighed through his nose and turned to activate the door. "Eloquently put. I'll just go round up the other hunting dogs."

-

* * *

-

Dagger reunited at the front gate to the self-storage facility where Laren had set up his "safehouse" in one of the rundown storage units. The unforgiving summer sun beat down on the still streets of Macbeth City. Gage's only relief coming from sporadic breezes that cooled the sweat on his forehead and bare arms, save the elbow pads he had pulled on over his fur at the last moment. Ley had followed suit and ditched her overshirt as well, leaving her tight athletic top under the light armor vest. Delaine didn't seem fazed by the heat and simply pulled his bandana tighter over his brow to absorb any sight-threatening sweat.

Ley and Delaine didn't like the plan any better than their captain, but Gage laid out Braddock and Tien's role without a blip in his confidence and left no room for discussion. He could see by their faces that they mirrored his own objections but they remained silent, as if sensing beneath the strong exterior how difficult it had been to give the order. They didn't need to be told that if the mission's success claimed every one of their lives, it was a worthy tradeoff.

Just as they left the self-storage grounds, Laren pointed to the Artemis building, the massive reflective skyscraper towering over the rest of the city and seeming monstrous even at a couple miles in the distance. A sharp contrail streaked down from the atmosphere in a beeline toward the building. The black speck of what Gage knew to be another pod barely became visible before it smacked into the skyscraper, the thunderous sound of the impact delayed by distance before reaching his ears.

"The comm blackout can be lifted from the bunker," Laren said. "Until then, they're on their own. And not of our concern."

Ley took point, keeping a block ahead to scout, while Delaine hung back to pick and choose the angles that suited him and his rifle. Laren stuck close to Gage, the latter keeping his rifle butt wedged against his shoulder and barrel angled down, ready to pop up at a moment's notice. He kept near cover at all times as he moved, from abandoned cars to storefronts, but the streets seemed deserted of civilian and enemy alike, though a lone car or rushing civvie would skirt by every now and then, causing him to flinch then relax.

Gage didn't mind the lack of civilians getting in the way but the empty, silent streets proved eerie. He spoke to Laren, though his eyes and HUD kept scanning his surroundings. "Did everyone knock off early for the day or something?"

"Macbethians tend to be skittish," the jackal replied. He walked with his hands in his jacket pockets as if moseying on a Sunday afternoon, but Gage knew the façade hid an alert agent. "This planet was hit the hardest in the Lylat War. Most major cities have an extensive emergency protocol, the subways in this case. When they were rebuilt their infrastructure was reinforced to double as a sort of bomb shelter. The LDC activated the emergency broadcast system as soon as it became apparent this conflict might engulf the city, what with the 3rd Marines hitting Venomian strong points…" He glanced at his watch. "…in a half hour. That's the plan, right? The 3rd lands at the stadium and rolls on in to mop up Venomians and converge on Artemis Tower."

"That's the plan. I guess we won't know how they're doing until we get comms back up."

Laren pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and chuckled as he brought one to his lips, as if the unfolding battle amused him in a bitter way. "If there's one pro about working on Macbeth…" He lit the cigarette with an ivory lighter and drew deep, smoke swirling from his nostrils as he exhaled. "…it's that when we tell the civilians to get their damn heads down, they don't dick around. We may run into a Venomian patrol but I haven't seen many this far from the tower and roadblocks. Keep alert though. If I was superstitious, I'd consider you bad luck to have around."

"How do you figure?"

"Your one and only major catastrophe was aboard the Artemis Thirteen space station. We're assaulting the headquarters of a company called Artemis Biotechnical. That name crops up like a banshee call signaling doom."

"Well, if everything goes to hell this time, we have _your_ wonderful plan to thank for it."

"Touché."

Ley signaled an all-clear from further up the city street and disappeared around the corner. Gage signaled back toward Delaine and they continued, on, the captain trying to figure out his new ally while keeping his attention on the unpredictable urban jungle. "So how did you land an assignment inside TDE anyway? Seems pretty cushy. Better than going undercover with pirates and gun runners anyway."

Laren gave his sardonic chuckle again. "I'm a hero, didn't you know? I stopped the Regent Starliner bombing two years ago. I bet you remember that little incident."

Gage raised his rifle as another car cut across the intersection ahead, but it sped away to the south. "The plot to blow three heavy freighters as they entered Corneria City airspace. Would've killed tens of thousands. Hellion job."

"Correct. They loved jerking the CDIA around on that one. You don't think you're the only one Hellion's toyed with, do you? The only team he's targeted? The only person they've made their pet torture project? Every agency from Corneria to Zoness wants Hellion erased."

The fox hesitated, sensing an intensity in the man's voice. "I read the briefs; I know Hellion's history. The Regent incident mentioned an undercover agent and the fight that delayed Ares and Eris long enough for Cornerian authorities to divert the freighters. That was you?"

Laren took his time exhaling another breath of smoke. "You know all you need to know."

"You don't sound too happy with the outcome."

"There are shades of victory. We don't just pile up enemy bodies and pop off for a beer at the end of the day."

Gage hissed a sharp interruption and raised his fist to halt Delaine. Ley had signaled him but he needed only a moment of the steadily intensifying mechanical rumble in his ears to know what lay around the next corner a block ahead. As his two teammates found their own cover, Gage dropped to one knee behind an abandoned blue car. Laren followed suit, snuffing out his cigarette on the pavement.

"Tank," the agent uttered.

Gage perked up his ears and corrected, "APC. Two of them. Probably foot escorts also. Get ready to move if they turn down this road."

The breezes had stopped, leaving the air stifling and tense, polluted by the approaching enemy's noise. Heat wafted up from the shimmering pavement and the car's bumper burned against Gage's arm, but he remained still and focused on the noise. When it finally hit its peak upon reaching the intersection a block ahead of them, Gage slowly peeked around the car to recon. Sure enough, a black and green APC roared into sight, toppling the traffic light and signs at the intersection with a crash and rolling over them as if they were cardboard. A couple squads of Venomian soldiers accompanied it in escort positions, heads constantly on the move to check windows for ambushes. Another APC with its own escort contingent rode on the heels of the first. Luckily, they continued through the intersection without any indication of turning down Gage's road.

"They'll pass us by," Gage reported, settling back into full cover. "Might be a minute; they're taking their sweet time checking their surroundings."

"Popping on toward Artemis Tower. Seems Titan and Nexus are performing adequately as decoys, spooking the ground forces at least and drawing their attention."

Gage looked at the agent, his blood simmering again at how casually he referred to his teammates' dire situation, no matter how necessary the situation was. As the APCs shook the ground and pounded in his ears, Gage spoke over the noise. "I may just be a 'hunting dog,' but even I can see you're full of shit."

Laren locked eyes with him, his own neutral expression remaining unchanged.

"I don't know much about you, but I know Hellion," the captain continued. "They use and dispose cohorts like most people do tissues. To get close to them, you would've had to really play your cards right. You would've been totally on your own. You would've been deep in their world. You would've had to prove your worth, and that meant doing anything to maintain their trust, things that made you just as bad as them. Civilians? Police? Fellow agents? How many did you have to kill? It doesn't matter. In the end you stopped a major terror attack - and my guess is that eye wasn't a skiing weekend accident - but Hellion made you really pay for it. The CDIA knows you had no choice, you had to get close no matter what. Maybe even you know that. But that's not enough to make the guilt go away. My guess? You want Hellion just as bad as me. You didn't take this TDE assignment because it was cushy. You took it because Hellion was involved and this way you'd get another crack at them." He raised his eyebrows. "Well? Do I win this time?"

The jackal's expression hadn't changed the entire time, his eyes intense and unblinking and his breath rhythmically coursing through his nose. Without a hint of annoyance, bitterness, or anything else Gage could call a reaction, he brought another cigarette from his pocket to his lips, lit it with the ivory lighter, and said with words as unflinching as his face in the stillness left in the wake of the convoy's passing, "They're gone. Move."

-

* * *

-

Vera's Collectibles sat nestled under a thirty-story apartment building in the middle of 7th Avenue, as unassuming as the coffee shop and designer clothes store on either side of it. A no-frills green sign proclaimed its name, suspended between cloudy plate glass windows that displayed vases and assorted knick knacks that Gage couldn't identify and didn't care to. The setup seemed eager to prove that a store did indeed exist behind the weather-beaten door while at the same time trying its best not to invite potential customers inside. What made the crummy antique shop stand out was the pair of Venomian soldiers occupying the apartment windows above the dusty storefront.

Gage tucked his head back around the corner where his team had gathered at yet another city coffee house, this one fortunately opting for a hip "homey" feel with solid walls rather than plate glass fronts.. "A hundred meters up, across the street? Vera's?"

Laren flicked his cigarette butt over his shoulder, barely missing Ley, and went for another from his coat pocket. "A Dianus-owned façade. It looks and operates like a normal antique store. Even bought an ashtray there for the safehouse. There's a false wall in the back storeroom that opens up to a staircase. Down there is an underground monorail that runs under the subway system straight to Artemis Tower."

"Evac route?"

The agent nodded. "Quick-escape for Venomian VIPs in the Artemis building and its bunker. With the rest of Dagger making a ruckus, let's hope they only left basic security. Can your sniper take those two lookouts down silently?"

"The admiral said we're hitting the ground loud," Delaine uttered. "I came prepared as such."

Ley sighed and tossed her submachine gun at the wolf before ensuring her gloves and vest were strapped tight with a few pulls of their fasteners. "Leave it to the walking silencer again. Be back in a minute."

Gage stepped back and let the leopardess near the corner where she could peer around and wait for the guards to give her an opportunity to cross the street. Before long she sprung away from the corner and rolled behind a parked car near the curb with barely a noise. A few more carefully timed bolts brought her across the street where she crept along the storefronts before disappearing from sight down an alley nearer to Vera's. Gage wondered what she was up to when she suddenly sprung back into view…three stories off the ground.

"I hope your confidence in Starlet is well-founded, Longbow," Laren grunted, stealing a peek. "Her file doesn't do her recklessness justice."

"It's only reckless if you don't have the ability to back it up."

Like a predator leaping through the jungle treetops, Ley hopped to a drainpipe and whipped around the alley corner to the front of the building. She shimmied along window sills and ornate stonework beveled into decorative patterns, which made convenient hand and toe holds, until she was above the two target windows. Gage held his breath as she leaned away from the stonework by one stretched arm to get a better view of her position in relation to the windows. Slowly and deliberately, each shift and movement made with the utmost care and attention to silence, she slunk down the building front like a wary spider moving in on its helpless meal. Toes resting on the top of the window frame, not ten inches above the left soldier, she unsheathed her knife and slightly bent her knees.

_What's she doing?_

The fox's breath cut short once more when his question was answered.

Ley hopped straight up and away from the wall, looking as if she was about to plummet to the ground. Her life riding on her grip, she grabbed the top window frame where her feet had been a second before and used her momentum to swing into the open window, barreling into the startled guard posted there. The second soldier fumbled for his gun and fell out of view a moment later. Gage and Delaine stepped from behind cover and raised their rifles in case their teammate needed the assistance, but the captain knew that the battle was most likely over before he had even steadied his holosight.

Seeming to reprimand him for that thought, Ley collided backwards against the windowsill as if shoved and nearly fell out. A Venomian soldier was on top of her in a flash, hands dug into her shoulder and neck trying to push her, her back arched over the stone sill as far as it could go.

"Shit," Gage spat. His red dot hovered over the soldier but he stayed his finger.

"Clear shot," Delaine reported.

"Stand down. Can't risk alerting anyone inside the store."

He didn't have to think on it any further; Ley whipped her head forward, nailing the Venomian in the nose and fazing him just long enough for her to turn the tide and thrust their violent dance back inside and out of her team's line of sight. After a tense minute, her silhouette appeared again, thankfully alone, and she gave the all-clear signal.

"I'll stay here until you've cleared the store," Laren said, leaning against the wall. "Like me, your team works better alone. Gunplay's your field anyway."

The idea was fine with Gage; he would've suggested it first if the jackal hadn't beaten him to it. "Any possibility of hostages in there?"

"Hostages are always a possibility. But they're not always a concern. Now is one of those times."

Gage scowled as he gestured for Delaine to follow; he should've expected a response like that.

The two jogged up to the Vera's Collectibles storefront and stacked up to the side of the large leftmost display window. The Dagger captain looked up to see Ley's head poking out from the window and signaled for her to descend opposite them by the rightmost window. Without a moment's reluctance, she sprung out the window and held on only long enough to catch her submachine gun, courtesy of a Delaine's pitching arm, before shuffling down the side of the building and alighting on the sidewalk.

Gage stuck a shaped charge the size of a wad of gum, designed for normal door locks, against the lower corner of the glass and waited for Ley to do the same on her end. With his teammates ready, he gripped the detonator and counted down three seconds with his fingers.

The sharp explosive cracks and broken shrieks of shattered glass severed the unsettling Macbethian silence but were quickly drowned in the rain of fire that ensued.

Gage leapt through the ruined display window, sunlight flooding the musty one-room antique store, mass-produced pottery crunching under his boots. Shadowy figures were assaulted by the sunlight, obscured by a heavy mist of dust, but his HUD brought luminescent outlines around them in quick succession: four at least. His finger tightened around the trigger, held tentatively back by the uncertain targets and possibility of hostages; whatever his convictions, he wasn't ready to steamroll a room despite Laren's suggestion. Quick, unfettered movements and a slight bulge in the outlines around the tops of the craniums, suggesting helmets, brought the risk into the "acceptable" range.

Lasers lanced the dust-choked air and "antiques" resting precariously on shelves between the door and the cashier's desk against the rear wall. The bursts of light from their muzzle flashes created a storm of strobe lighting that illuminated the soldiers' demise, the gunfire dropping them before they could even get a shot off. As quickly as the tempest befell the store, it ceased, smoke and dust swirling and dancing in the new sunlight, six bodies spreading pools of blood in streams through the shattered remnants of the store's stock. Gage's HUD fell dark. He took his first breath since breaching the window and nearly coughed on the acrid residue.

"Clear left."

"Clear right."

A creak broke the newfound silence. Gage swung his rifle toward the dilapidated white door beside the cashier counter and tracked the noise with his holosight. He loosed a long burst of six shots that pocked the wooden wall to the left of the door and left blackened holes. The only response was a loud, solid thud from the other side.

"Real clear."

Gage skirted up to the door and kicked it in, splintering the knob moorings. The dead Venomian soldier laid alone, no other surprises waiting. The small back room was in an even more careless state than the shop itself, with boxes piled against the walls in haphazard mountains. Shelves floor-to-ceiling lined the back wall, fake antiquities and trinkets tossed upon them.

Gage looked over his shoulder to order Laren's summoning but found the jackal already moseying through the doorway, his white suit standing out amongst the gloom and pungent mist. He calmly stepped over the Venomian corpses and flicked his spent cigarette butt on the laser-riddled chest of the one underfoot.

"Seven men," he commented with a disinterested air. "Not as fortified as I expected."

"Maybe you'd like to go first next time," Gage shot.

Laren stepped to the shelved rear wall and ran his hands along the wood. "Calm down, Longbow, just commenting on good fortune. They must still suspect Titan and Nexus to be the only threats. I made sure your pod went up in flames under a lot of rubble once your team was out; they'll think whoever was in it died to guidance malfunction and faulty landing. You almost did, but that's beside the point." He chuckled.

"Someone's bound to call these saps for a status report sooner or later," Ley said from behind her captain where she and Delaine kept the shop secure.

"Well, then…" Laren pulled at something hidden under a waist-level shelf and stood back as a section of the wall shuddered with a mechanical clunk and swung toward them, revealing a thick, reinforced vault door with an access panel embedded near the triple bolt lock. "…let's not waste time here."

With a scoff, Gage stepped beside the agent and inspected the door. "You're kidding. You could've dropped the pod directly into this thing and it wouldn't have made a dent."

With a sigh, Laren leaned toward the access panel and punched in a few numbers on the keypad. "The right words and right connections can open more locks than all the keys and explosives in Lylat. I've been…keeping an eye on this door for some time." A grin spread across his muzzle as the numerical combination prompted a retinal scanner to slide open above the keypad. He stuck his head near it and let it scan his false eye. With a high chirp, the bolt lock retracted with the sharp crack of a sniper shot.

"Was that supposed to be funny?"

"We have to make our own humor out in the battlefield, don't we?" Laren tapped the fake eyeball, the sound eerie to Gage even though he knew it wasn't real. As he pulled the door open with a grunt, he continued, "New toy; an optic scanner and reflector, let's me scan and duplicate any retinal pattern. You could say this little injury made me a better field agent in the long run. Gives new meaning to the term handi-capable."

With a last sweep of the street to ensure no Venomians were bearing down on them, Ley joined the others in the back room, rolling her eyes at the jackal. "What can we expect from here on out?"

Fluorescent lights beyond the door automatically switched on, illuminating a gray concrete stairwell that bore down beneath Macbeth City. Laren took the lead and gestured for Dagger to follow. "This tunnel is locked down when not in use, so we won't run into anyone down here or on the other end of the monorail. But next stop is the bunker beneath Artemis Tower. It's not large; maybe the size of a gymnasium spread out over a few rooms. Comm control, security systems, and Bolse override failsafes are all housed there. But leave all that to me. You just point your little guns at the right guys and pull the trigger like you do so well."

Gage didn't like the echo their footsteps caused in the tight confines, despite the assurance no one was lying in wait below. "And how many hostiles can we expect to point our little guns at?"

"Unknown. But if they follow normal SOP, most soldiers will be engaging your teammates while the others guard the lobby and a smaller contingent guards the office that leads to the bunker. So there's plenty of guards, but they're all facing the wrong way. If we take the bunker without letting the operators inside radio for help, they'll never know we slipped in the back door. At least not until they're scheduled to check in."

After what felt like well over a hundred steps down, the stairwell opened up to a small passenger platform, the only color in the gray surroundings from the yellow and black striped warning paint that bordered the edge over the grav-rail line. Even the monorail car blended into the dull atmosphere with its gray paint scheme. As Laren gestured to the open monorail car door like an usher seating moviegoers, Gage mused over the simplicity.

"If the car's here because the all the VIPs already vacated, won't we trip any sensors driving the damn thing back?"

The door closed with a hydraulic hiss and Laren fiddled with the control panel at the front – back? – of the car. "A contact assured me the tunnel sensors deactivate if the retinal check is passed at the entrance. Let's just hope he's right. Keep the safety off just in case."

As the car lurched down the long, dark tunnel toward Artemis Tower, Ley looked quizzically down at the submachine gun in her hands. "These things come with safeties?"

-

* * *

-

The monorail car glided into the Artemis end of the tunnel a couple minutes later, each of its occupants with his or her firearm sight fixed on the platform. But all was quiet, as still as the ghostly shop they left behind. Ley sighed upon noticing a stairwell leading up, similar to the last one, and no doubt as lengthy.

Laren slid his handgun back into his shoulder holster and shot the leopardess a glance. "You climbed a highrise and now you're moaning at a few stairs?"

"No challenge," she replied, making a face at him when he turned away.

As he started up the stairs with the others, Gage put his finger to his earpiece, a burst of interference scratching at his eardrum. He tried to make out voices or any kind of identification but the transmission only lasted a second, barely slipping by the comm blackout net. Though he couldn't be positive, he knew it came from Braddock or Tien, probably desperately trying to get in contact with their captain, in the dark and unsure of whether any help was coming. He swallowed a lump of angry guilt in his throat and forced himself to put it out of his mind, but he made no attempt to quell the revitalized urgency that coursed through his blood.

The door that waited for them at the top landing proved to be considerably less formidable than its counterpart at Vera's Collectibles, comprised just of simple steel on an airtight sealed frame, locked by a standard keypad. Of course, Gage realized, the real security vault door would be the one leading from Artemis Tower itself to the bunker. He was about to ask Laren if he had the code for that one also but the jackal beat him to the punch.

"You're up again," the agent said as he reached for the keypad. "Clear it quick and find the security door that looks like the one from Vera's. Keep an eye on it in case someone from Artemis decides to pop in. Once we've dropped the comm blackout, I'll take it from there. Just watch your aim…avoid damaging the tech."

The door gave a low tone and slid open, the space immediately filled by Gage's rifle. Before him lay the bunker as he had expected it: a large coffin of gray concrete lit by harsh fluorescent bulbs and chilly from stale, recycled air. The floor space was a paradox of chaos and meticulous design, half a dozen rows of desks, terminals, and countless holoscreens all under the warm blue glow of a large holoprojection on the wall that showed segments from every security concern in the building. Wires laced the floor like black spiderwebs amidst the sparse furnishings. Voices, controlled yet urgent, overlapped each other from the ten Venomian command center operators, most of them sitting at different stations speaking into headsets, with a few huddled at a far corner around another station looking at a holoscreen feed. With everyone wrapped up in their jobs, no one heard or noticed the intruders.

Gage didn't squander the luck; he stepped into the bunker and gestured for his team to fan out around him for better firing positions. Part of him wondered if firing was even necessary; the seated operators were technicians wearing basic uniforms, their sidearms laying about their stations. Priority threat came from the three huddled soldiers, who wore armor vests and rifles dangling from slings. If he made his team's presence known and no one did anything stupid, they might be able to take the bunker without a shot and not risk damaging the equipment.

But he knew the moment he saw the frightened eyes look at him that it wouldn't be that simple. It never was.

Gage had just lowered his left hand to his vest to unclip a flashbang grenade in case things went south when one of the technicians, a woman, finally caught on to their presence. She was a pretty young tigress, no older than Ley, in the Venomian brown blouse and black skirt of a technical officer. Her eyes fell upon Gage and he watched her expression unfold from stoic business to wide-eyed, paralyzing fear, the war she had only ever seen from a monitor suddenly right in front of her. She slowly stood and tried backing away but a warning glare from the fox kept her in place.

The rest of the room fell silent, each Venomian alerted in turn like dominoes falling from the woman's movement. Gage's finger tightened around the trigger but too much of the equipment still lay between him and the three armed soldiers. The entire mission would be for nothing if the wrong pieces were damaged. But as the three riflemen in the corner reached for their weapons, their demeanors braver than their desk-bound comrades, his options went up in smoke.

With one deft swing of his hand, he primed the flashbang and tossed it out between the technicians and soldiers. His teammates knew what was coming; they closed their eyes and covered their ears while the hostiles were caught surprised. Gage opened his eyes after the muffled sound and flash and saw the enemies reeling amidst the sour smoke and magnesium sparks. He let Delaine pick off the three soldiers in the back with well-placed single shots while he and Ley shifted their stance for a clearer shot at the technicians. At least two of them went for their sidearms, but the only target Gage seemed to see clearly as he pulled the trigger was the petrified tigress in front. She disappeared before his muzzle flash as his lasers tore through the Venomians.

The noise stopped. The smoke twisted and ascended into the air filtration vents.

Laren stepped into the room and surveyed the aftermath, glancing with annoyance first at a dead, sparking monitor where the flashbang had gone off, then at the captain himself. As Ley and Delaine skirted off to secure two flimsy doors beyond the large holoscreen, the jackal inspected the minor damage done by the flashbang's concussion and casually stepped over the dead technicians to search for the proper console station.

"Took you long enough, and you still managed to hit the equipment. What was the delay?"

Gage ejected his magazine and slapped in a fresh one. "I was trying to set it up so we could take the room without any firing."

"Rather uncharacteristic of your type. At least the systems we need survived." Laren furrowed his brow at the fox, apparently sensing something in his expression, and looked down at the dead tigress' face, her expression frozen in shock and fear. Blood and multiple entry wounds had ravaged her pristine blouse. "Or was it yourself you were trying to protect rather than the computers?"

Gage narrowed his eyes. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Laren sat at the middle station's chair, a laser hole still smoldering the backrest, and began typing at the keyboard, though Gage felt that the agent's attention was still on him even if his eyes were not. "That's one face you'll be seeing tonight when you close your eyes. Or tomorrow night. Or the next night. Doesn't matter when; they all come back eventually. Some people just don't belong on a goddamn battlefield and you can see it in their eyes. But for whatever reason, they're there, so you gotta shoot. They put on the uniform; they can't expect to run out on the field and not be tackled."

The captain scowled and started to formulate a retort but stopped, his eyes studying the half of Laren's face he could see. He sensed no sarcasm or lambasting in the man's words; the voice almost seemed like it was talking to itself. Worst of all, Laren said nothing that Gage could honestly deny, and the fox knew from the way it was said that the words came from experience rather than speculation. He just muttered, "That's what's so great about our jobs. New surprises every day."

"That there are." Laren gave a somber glance with his good eye in Gage's direction and returned his full attention to the holoscreen, his fingers working rapidly.

Ley returned from the door she had inspected, rubbing her arms against the drop in temperature. "That one just leads to a provision storage area. No contacts."

"Same over there, sir." Delaine came up behind her. "Power room and mechanical staging. No one."

Gage pointed to the only other exit from the room, a short corridor behind the rows of terminals that curved left at the end. "Scout ahead and find the exit to the Artemis building. Once located, take up defensive positions. If anyone tries to get in, engage."

Echoing affirmatives, the two Dagger operatives hurried off down the corridor and disappeared around the bend.

After a couple more minutes of rapid clacking from Laren's keyboard, he reported, "I believe I found the right command system. Bringing down the comm blackout…now."

Gage's HUD flickered and text streamed by his eye as it ran reboot updates and factored in the new signals. Once his team's channel decrypted and flashed green, he selected it. "This is Dagger One to Daggers Four and Five. Titan, Nexus, respond if you read this. Say again, this is Dagger One to—"

_"Damn good to hear your voice, sir! We've been cut of and pinned down since landing!"_

Gage exhaled in relief upon hearing Tien's voice but the frantic shouting and bursts of gunfire brought a grimace shortly after. "Status, corporal?"

_"Hunkered in on the twenty-third floor in a lab! Braddock is hit but still standing! Running low on ammo, can't hold them back much longer! Sir, intel was bullshit…we secured the control room but it was locked out, under the thumb of another station somewhere else!"_

"I know; we're there right now. Long story. Corporal, I need you and Titan to hang on just a little bit longer. We're coming to get you."

_"Braddock! Right! Watch the—" _A deafening burst erupted over the comm, followed by a long string of automatic fire._ "Better make it fast, sir, or you'll be hauling away dogtags!"_

Gage cut the line, not wanting to distract them any longer. The grimace wouldn't leave his face, lingering from the unsettling reminder that he aided in using his own teammates as bait. He walked impatiently to where Laren had switched seats to a new station. "How long until the Bolse cannon is online?"

"Our Venomian friends have already warmed it up. System checks already done, exhaust ports open…apparently they weren't going to be shy about using it. Seems the access codes were worth the price; I have control, at least for the time being."

"Then fire the damn thing."

Laren sighed and glanced up at the large wall-mounted holoscreen where a thermal video feed had begun, multicolored shapes on a black background. "That mess is the view from one of Bolse's targeting cameras. This isn't just pulling a trigger; I need to input the right power outputs and target coordinates. I figure we get five shots at the most before the cannon overloads or burns out, so let's make them count. Project Siren first."

The image flickered to another view, the thermal mode off, of the Venomian surface. Laren adjusted magnification intensity and brought the view closer to the ground, mountains and canyons eventually coming into focus as if looking down on them from the lower atmosphere. Gage recognized the mountain range winding along the screen from Fox's report; the memory made his brow wrinkle.

"How did you know the coordinates from McCloud's mission report?"

Laren's typing didn't miss a beat. "Do you honestly think a development of such consequence went two minutes in the mission log database before the CDIA caught it?"

Gage relented with a semi-amused grunt. "How come the government can do that but it takes me six months to get an error on my driver's license fixed?"

"Because if they take their time, citizens just complain. If we take our time, citizens die. Slightly more at stake. Realigning the cannon." The agent glanced from his own screen to the wall projection and gave a small grin. "Right about now the Bolse crew's pissing themselves. Okay, here we go, let's give 'em something to really mess their pants over. Starting the firing sequence."

The display showed a rapid sequence of numbers turning from red to green in succession and finally a five-second countdown. The feed blanked for a few seconds when the cannon fired and shuddered from the stress, but the two Cornerians were given a clear view of the titanic blast impacting the mountain, sending a massive shockwave out from the epicenter of the explosion. When the dust cleared, a city-block sized chunk of the mountain had vanished and a black crater marred the landscape.

Laren shook his head. "No good. If the Siren cavern went up, we'd see more than that."

"The briefing said this might not work, that the cavern's central pillar and reinforced structure might hold up."

"I know." The jackal clicked his teeth in thought. "I'll give it one more; we need a few shots for the Atlas, no sense wasting them all beating our head on a wall."

Again the sequence flashed, and again the countdown fell. Gage waited in anticipation for the screen to clear after the cannon fired and saw another devastating impact, hopefully penetrating deeper and hitting the cavern harder. The crater grew, becoming a pit as if a massive asteroid had collided with the surface. But still not enough.

"Come on, dammit," Laren uttered through clenched teeth.

As if to answer his crude prayer, the desert rock buckled, the assault finally proving too much for the cavern's spine. The surrounding mountain rock and tons of sand collapsed into the Venomian surface, burying the subterranean cavern amidst scattered explosions that spewed sand into the heavens. Gage pounded his fist into his hand in silent celebration, watching the nightmare that haunted Fara be put to rest.

"That's one army of bio freaks Dianus will have to do without," Laren said matter-of-factly, any relief or happiness hidden. "But we still have the Atlas to worry about. Realigning and switching to thermal."

The jackal cycled through different hull cameras before finding the original view, that of the battle raging between the two Titans between Macbeth and Venom. Gage squinted at the grainy feed and could make out distant explosions, small as sparks from Bolse's perspective. Zooming the camera helped a bit but the thermal filter made things clearer. Red trails of fighters curled around the larger red and yellow shapes of capital ships, and the twin Titans dominated the scene like stationary yet powerful kings on a chessboard.

"Pulling transponders," Laren uttered, more speaking his thoughts aloud than reporting. "The one on the right is the Atlas. Let's see if this gets their attention."

The cannon warmed up and fired but Gage found the aftermath practically indistinguishable in the thermal view, save an overwhelming red spike emanating from the cannon. The one thing he did see clearly was a flashing yellow "Warning: Overload" alert in the top right corner. He looked to Laren for an update.

"Yeah, I'd say that spilled a few cups of coffee. Knocked the shields down thirty percent, probably caused some feedback in their shield capacitors also."

Despite the warning, Laren charged up and fired again, the same mess of color exploding across the holoscreen."

"Shields down more, loss of heat signature in two stabilizer thrusters. Let's see if I can get one more out of this thing."

The warning alert now flashing brighter and pleading for mercy, it vanished altogether along with the rest of the video feed after the final blast. The holoscreen went dark. Laren rubbed his hands together and cracked his knuckles before standing and digging in his coat pocket for a cigarette. "That's that. Let's hope McGarret's competent enough to finish up on his own."

Gage peeked at the terminal screen and found nothing helpful. "That's it? You don't know if the Atlas is destroyed?"

"Oh, it's definitely not all the way gone." The jackal stuck the cigarette in his muzzle and lit it with a reflexive flick of his ivory lighter. "But that last shot probably broke through to the hull. I wouldn't say the Vanguard's got this one in the bag, given its own damage, but it has the upper hand."

"If there's even a chance of victory, McGarret will get it done. Come on, Braddock and Tien are on the twenty-third floor."

Laren breathed a cloud of smoke from his nose that was hastily pulled into the vents. "Good luck with that, Longbow. My job's done."

"Big surprise. I follow your little plan and leave two of my men in the fire and you're not even gonna help me get to them."

"Not my concern. I did my part, you did your part. Whatever you want to do from here is your business. My business lies elsewhere." He turned to look at the fox. "I'll let you through to the Artemis lobby, but then I'm gone."

Gage knew it wasn't worth arguing; he knew from the beginning the agent wouldn't stick around but part of him hoped to be proven wrong. He led the way down the corridor his teammates had gone and come to them kneeling at the base of a concrete stairwell leading up to a vault door every bit as secure as the one at Vera's. Ley and Delaine reported no activity and the leopardess punched the sniper in the shoulder in happiness upon hearing the news that the Bolse cannon found its marks. Delaine just pursed his lips in annoyance at her.

Laren let the door scan his false eye before inputting another long key code. With a lazy, mock salute with two fingers, he turned and took a few steps down away from them. "Just hit the green button when you're ready to go in." His good eye fixed on Gage. "I'd recommend you three come back with me…"

"But you already know the answer," the captain finished.

"I wouldn't be very good at my job if I didn't. You hunting dogs, always looking out for the pack even if it means you all die together." Laren's mildly amused demeanor turned serious. "Hellion may not have been on this battlefield, Longbow, but there will be another time. I aim to be there. But if I'm not, I'd feel just as good if you're the one to put them in the ground."

Gage just nodded, the hidden pain in the jackal's face all too familiar.

"For what it's worth, good luck, Dagger."

His even, easy footsteps diminished down the stairwell and were lost with their last echoes.

-

* * *

-

The two door guards never saw it coming.

An elegant conference room waited on the other side of the door, the bunker passage hidden behind a pair of data drive cabinets. Their footsteps inaudible on the red carpet, Dagger moved around the long conference table toward a pair of double doors on the other side. Already Gage could hear the telltale cracks of distant gunfire; as long as the fire kept up, he knew Braddock and Tien were still kicking.

Gage crept to the wooden doors and activated his HUD's white/hot thermal scan. Two figures showed up behind the left door, one apparently leaning against it in boredom with the other a few feet in front of him, facing him. Gage could hear disinterested words being exchanged but couldn't make out anything, nor did he care to; all he knew were they stood in his way and he was in a hurry.

Letting his rifle hang, the captain unsheathed his dagger and signaled for Ley to do the same while Delaine stood back and covered them. From a few follow-up gestures, Ley caught on to Gage's plan and flipped the dagger around to hold it by the blade between her fingers.

In one fluid movement, the fox twisted the bolt lock open and flung the door inward, causing the lax soldier to fall flat on his back with a yelp of surprise. Gage clamped his muzzle shut with one hand and dug the dagger between his ribs to the heart. As the canine soldier's eyes lost all life, the sharp whistle of split air passed over Gage's head and he glanced out the door just long enough to see the second soldier fall to his knees, fight the blade in his throat, then succumb to death with a last desperate gurgle.

Ley skittered over the corpses to retrieve her knife and scout further ahead to make sure no one had seen them. As she nonchalantly wiped the blade clean on the corpse's brown-and-black pant leg, she whispered back, "Looks like we're on the first floor, some kind of central atrium. Lots of shooting up high. Everyone must either be there or outside."

Gage followed her out and blinked at the extravagant innards of Artemis Tower. The huge atrium grew in the middle of the open-air construction, stretching high toward the natural light streaming down from the skyscraper's skylight a hundred stories above. A bank of four glass elevator tracks rose all the way up like the tower's spine, intersecting each floor's ringed balcony. Two cylindrical glass elevators waited on the ground floor, with the other two staggered higher up. With a wave of dizziness at looking straight up so high, Gage noticed smoke and shadows of activity from the balcony a quarter of the way up; flashes and sounds of gunfire followed. Shards of broken glass fell like deadly rain to tinkle amongst the rocks and tile floor near Dagger.

Gage looked toward the reception area and lobby off the side of the atrium and pointed to it. "I want you two to secure our rear. Sweep the outside perimeter and prepare a defense. Try to make contact with Lieutenant McCullen and see where the 3rd Marines are. If things get too hot, hold this position and we'll all retreat back down the monorail tunnel."

As the two hustled toward the lobby, Gage cut across the thick foliage of the atrium and, after a moment's hesitation, went for the elevator. He knew it would make him a sitting duck but he didn't care as long as it got him to his teammates faster than stairs. The glass elevator rose, giving off happy chirps at each floor as Gage knelt, his rifle shouldered and holosight scanning each balcony across the way.

"Dagger One to Dagger Four and Five. I'm coming up the elevator now. Where do you need me?"

Tien replied again. _"I hear you, sir. We're pinned down on the east side, figure about seven remaining hostiles on the balcony shooting in at us."_

"Roger that. Stand by for support."

Gage saw the carnage before the elevator docked with the twenty-third floor. A quick count spotted nine Venomian soldiers and mercenary guards flanking a gaping black hole that used to be a doorway leading into a laboratory wing. Laser pock marks and explosive damage marred everything around it, including a few dead bodies that Braddock and Tien had managed to chalk up. With all the noise, no one noticed the elevator glide into place and slide open. Gage crept out onto the balcony ring and worked his way around trying to find a good firing position. Finally, he took up position behind a decorative marble buttress near a couple benches and beaded his sight on the back of the nearest soldier.

"Press the attack; firing now."

He pulled the trigger and the soldier dropped under the laser burst, his sudden death startling his buddies. Gage popped another one before the others scrambled for cover, suddenly on the defensive from the newcomer and the renewed efforts from inside the lab. A hail of return fire forced Gage to drop behind the jutting buttress, lasers chipping away at the marble.

_"Braddock, wait! Stupid…Sir, we need covering fire, now!"_

Gage didn't question it. Despite continued threat in his direction, he popped up and laid on the trigger toward the lab, forcing a few enemies to duck back. He didn't have long to wait to find out why the covering fire was needed. Driving through the twisted remainder of the lab door like an enraged bull, Braddock burst onto the balcony with a crash and tackled a startled soldier, sending him tumbling over the rail and down twenty-three floors. Other Venomians within the seething bear's reach fell under his iron fists as they scattered. One brave soldier took a swing at him with the butt of his rifle but Braddock knocked it away, grabbed the soldier one-handed by the vest, and slammed him into the wall with enough force to knock him out cold…and give him a broken bone or two, judging from the wet snaps that rose above the din to Gage's ears. The captain hopped over the marble and hurried forward, popping off single shots when the opportunities presented themselves, careful not to hit his teammate.

The remaining few enemies retreated and ducked out of view into an office wing. Gage put a few rounds toward them to make sure they thought twice about coming back then hurried the last few steps to the smoldering lab.

Braddock loomed over the dead Venomians, nearly seven feet tall and built like a fully-loaded tank. The brown bear looked around with gritted teeth, ham-sized fists still clenched, and started to calm down when he saw no more poor bastards were left to rip apart. His black and gray combat uniform had seen better days, burns and rips marring the armor and material, but more disturbing were the splotches of blood on the arms and abdomen. Gage didn't know whether the blood was Braddock's but he knew it didn't matter; a few gunshots would never be enough to even slow the bear down.

Tien cautiously stepped out of the lab wreckage, small as a mouse compared to his larger teammate. The young tiger wasn't any more an imposing sight on his own, standing an inch shorter than Ley with a physique that seemed ready to buckle under the combat uniform at any second. Though Tien stubbornly blamed it on his age – the youngest Dagger soldier at twenty-three years old – the others knew it simply to be a matter of his chosen profession. Despite his surprising ability to match the combat conviction of his teammates, CASOC didn't recruit him to be a point man. A technical and engineering genius, Tien was to electronics what Braddock was to walls and bones: a very dangerous force to be reckoned with. So Gage never minded that Tien spent most of his time in front of a monitor rather than in the weight room if that's what kept him in top shape to contribute to the team. He had more than earned his keep in his captain's eyes.

But that never stopped Ley from ambushing Tien with noogies and referring to him as her "kid brother."

"Ever think of using this?" Tien snapped, shoving Braddock's support machine gun against his chest. "They invented these so you don't have to run into bad guys like a suicide bulldozer."

Braddock raised his right fist and muttered in his deep baritone, "These never run out of ammo."

Gage allowed a small grin of relief, glad to see his teammates again…and glad they were still breathing. "You two alright?"

"Yes, sir," Tien replied with a grin of his own. A trickle of blood seeped down his check where some debris had cut him but he seemed no worse off than that. "Can't say how great it is to see you. I thought our tickets were up. What happened? Where's your pod?"

"A CDIA agent diverted it, showed us to the real command station. The mission's complete, at least on our end. I'll tell you everything once we're out of here; for now we need to get back downstairs before more hostiles show up. These jokers can't be all that's left in the building."

"I don't know about that, sir," Braddock interjected, checking the remaining ammo in his heavy repeater with a frown. "A few of them moved off to try and flank us a little bit ago, but a whole load of others went away maybe twenty minutes ago. The shrimp was able to intercept some of their comm traffic and it looks like the main Venomian resistance is trying to stop the 3rd Marines' advance."

"Good, keeps 'em out of our fur. Come on."

Braddock led the way back toward the elevators while Gage waited for Tien to toss his empty rifle away and swap it out for a Venomian weapon, complete with a handful of energy mags from the corpse's vest. The captain waved him past and back-stepped his way around the balcony ring, his holosights never leaving the door through which the surviving hostiles retreated.

"Wait, not the elevator," Gage commanded, pointing to the balcony railing instead. "Leaves you too exposed for too long. Knot up."

The tiger and bear slung their weapons and each pulled a coil of high-tensile line out of their rear vest pouches. Their lines alone couldn't reach the whole distance so Tien cinched the ends together, secured the combined line around the rail with the integrated clasp and tossed the rest over the side, letting it fall to the garden far below. The corporal glanced over and gave the captain a thumbs-up to indicate it reached all the way.

"Go, got you covered," Gage ordered. "I'll be right behind you."

Tien groaned. "Always hated rappelling."

Despite his moaning, the tiger wound the cord through his belt carabiner and vaulted over the railing along with Braddock, each planting their feet against the other side of the low balcony wall to get their balance before taking the plunge. Either the Venomians had waited for them to split up or they were astoundingly lucky, because the two runners chose that moment to burst through the far doorway along with a few friends.

"I think we found your flankers!" Gage shouted over the roar of a long burst from his rifle. "Go! Now!"

The high-pitched zip of a rapid rappel descended away from him as he peppered the Venomians' cover, keeping their heads down. Shoving the rifle back on its sling so it hung behind him, he pulled his pistol free and kept up the fire with one hand while his other reached for the rappel line and clumsily secured it to his belt carabiner.

_Deep breath._

He knew once he stopped firing he'd only have a few seconds' delay before the soldiers would start firing back.

_No slip-ups._

Het slowly let out the breath…and jumped.

Planting a hand on the metal railing, he hopped on top of it on his toes and leapt as far out into the void as he could. The line cinched taut in his hand and he twisted in mid-air as he began to swing back, air rushing in his ears. He gave the line some slack and zipped down as he swung, clenching it tight again as his feet hit the balcony wall four floors down. Grunting from the sudden pain in his shins from the impact, he bent his knees and prepared to shove off again when lasers smacked the balcony wall around him, kicking up flecks of plaster and smoke in his face.

_"Sir, we have no bead! We can't cover you!"_

Holding tight to the line with his left hand, Gage pulled his SEC-29 into action once more and fired up at the muzzle flashes he could make out, making his assailants seek cover again. He hurriedly attempted to shove off but another burst of fire nicked at the wall by his feet. His boot slipped and he fell head over heels, dangling upside down like a worm on a hook. Letting his pistol fall, he grabbed at the line and tried to right himself.

_"Sir! You okay?!"_

"Damn cable's knotted up!" Gage pulled and clawed at the clumped mess on his carabiner but his weight had pulled it too tight to undo. He managed to pull himself rightside up but it didn't help him move. His eyes darted around, desperately looking for anything he could do to escape; his eyes fell on the elevator he had taken up to the twenty-third floor. "Call the far left elevator!"

_"Sir?"_

"Just do it!"

Unsheathing his dagger, Gage flinched at a few potshots but glanced up and saw that the soldiers hadn't summoned enough courage to look over. Their battle with Tien and Braddock must've taught them who they were dealing with, but he knew eventually they'd wise up and risk it. Sawing at the tough cable, Gage risked another look up and saw his elevator descending, along with the third and fourth in the row, which had been staggered higher up the skyscraper.

_"Called 'em all for good measure, sir. They're on the way."_

The line snapped under Gage's blade, freeing him as the bottom remainder fell to the garden. He held for dear life to the rest of it, arms stretched overhead and knuckles aching from the tight grasp. Fighting the sudden vertigo from looking down, he focused instead on the elevator and began shifting his weight, building up momentum to swing back and forth. Timing it as best he could, he threw his weight into one final swing and released, aiming to grab hold of the elevator car's roof.

"Shit…"

He cursed through gritted teeth as he landed on his chest on the elevator roof and slid right over the edge, catching himself with one flailing hand, only the grooves on his gloved forefingers against the brass roof keeping him from plunging to his death. Simultaneously relieved and annoyed to find himself dangling so precariously again, he threw his other arm up over the roof and pulled himself on top, letting out a long breath past his aching ribs. He didn't have long to relax; staying flat on his back, he brought his rifle around and fired up at the distant shapes peeking over the twenty-third floor balcony, thankfully growing further away by the second.

When the elevator stopped with a ding at the ground floor, Gage rolled off and clumsily landed back on safe, solid ground in the central atrium. His teammates ran over to him and tugged him to cover near the lobby as lasers rained from above.

"They'll be after us," Gage wheezed, still trying to recover his wind after bashing himself on the elevator. "Braddock, cover the stairwell while I—"

"Already taken care of, sir," the bear replied with a wry grin. He hooked his thumb over his shoulder where the second elevator car was already on its way back up. "I decided to be nice and send them up a ride. I'd suggest covering your ears."

Braddock held up a remote detonator, tiny between his thick fingers, his eyes intent on the car and not fazed at all by the hostile fire. When the elevator docked with the twenty-third floor, he hit the button and Gage was shoved back on his rear by an unseen force before he even knew what happened.

He blinked away bright blindness and shook his head to clear his deafened ears. Debris, glass, and one mangled elevator car rained down on the atrium in a deadly torrent, the twenty-third floor lit in a blaze of fire, the entire quadrant by the elevator a smoldering mess. The gaseous fire extinguishing system kicked in, adding white billows to the chaotic scene, but they it accomplished about as much as sneezing on a forest fire. The roar of the explosion caught up with his hearing then died away, letting him listen to the crackle of fire and hailstorm of structural debris.

"I think our back is clear, sir!" Braddock shouted over the noise.

"Thanks, lieutenant," Gage replied, climbing to his feet. "The only thing missing from this mission was a migraine."

_"Boss! What the hell happened?!"_

Gage cringed at Ley's urgent voice in his throbbing head and gestured for his teammates to follow him to the lobby as he replied…after he found Fara's pistol in the garden dirt and ensured it still worked. "I left Braddock alone for two minutes. We're all fine. What's the situation out there?"

_"Better come out and see for yourself."_

Gage didn't like the sound of that and he could already see signs of trouble through the glass revolving doors past the vacant reception desk. He pushed through them and stood once again in the blazing summer heat, atop the wide masonry staircase that led down to the lavish plaza. The courtyard comprised the rest of the grassy traffic circle that held Artemis Tower; statuary, benches, and walkways sprawled before the skyscraper. From the front door of Artemis Tower, Gage could see directly down the main thoroughfare, a wide four-lane road that cut through the entire city, abandoned cars littering it like a series of traffic accidents lost in limbo.

But only a couple miles in the distance, pillars of smoke rose to blot out the scorching sky and fire made the horizon shimmer. The low rumble of far-away explosions and gunfire permeated the still air.

_"Boss, Lieutenant McCullen said to—"_

"I'll talk to him myself. Hurry with whatever you're doing and fall back." After glancing around to make sure there were no lurking enemies, and finding half a dozen victims of Ley and Delaine scattered throughout the courtyard, Gage brought his finger to his ear and activated the 3rd's channel. "McCullen, this is Dagger One. My scout says you have an update."

_"Captain! This comm blackout's been hell on getting my forces moving together. Do I have you to thank for ending it?"_

"We can save the thanks for the bar tonight. Give me a SITREP."

_"We ran into a stronger Venomian force than we anticipated and the lack of comms put us at a disadvantage. We're pushing ahead now, only a couple klicks away from Artemis, and we have them on the run. But that's the problem…they're falling back, and falling back _hard_, right toward you."_

"Roger that. We have an escape route, don't worry about—"

_"Sir…we can't let them fortify Artemis Tower. We don't have the manpower to assault a strengthened position, and HQ says destroying the tower is not an option. We'll lose double the men if we have to fight them there, not to mention any classified information on Dianus' galactic operations. If the Vanguard fails, Artemis Tower is all we have."_

"Classified information," Gage echoed. "Like where her base of operations is, her corporate contacts…biotech research." Though he didn't say it aloud, his thoughts drifted to Fara. He had promised her there was a cure, that there had to be, that Dianus had to have a countermeasure locked away somewhere for her own use. Protecting the building for McCullen's reasons was enough, but if there was even a chance Artemis Biotech housed that information… "There's no way in hell they'll get past us. What are we looking at?"

_"Venomian soldiers and mercenaries, a few companies' worth maybe, and light armor. They don't have air support, but neither do we; most fighters are supporting the Vanguard and ours are rearming outside the city."_

"Copy all. See you here soon."

_"Good luck, captain."_

Gage cut the line and switched back to his team's channel. "Ley, we have to prepare for incoming. Where are you?"

_"Me and Del are leaving a few party favors up the road, hundred meter spread. Three-position fallback, leap-frog cover, end with hardpoints at the plaza? Just like old times?"_

"You read my mind. Let's get it done, fast."

-

* * *

-

Delaine put his hand to his chest and let it linger there; though he couldn't feel the gold cross pendant his father had given him when he graduated from seminary, he felt comfort just knowing it was there under his tactical vest. With the deliberation of a minister setting up the altar for mass, he prepared his station, laying out energy mags on the floor for easy reach, rubbing the window sill with his sleeve to wipe away any slickness, and shifting his weight to find the right balance for the floor's material and pressure, all the while inhaling and exhaling in a meditative rhythm.

His perch sat at a window fifteen floors up a tenement building in a grimy bathroom at the building's corner, just across the street from Artemis Tower, overlooking the battle down the main road. His first choice had been to take up position in Artemis itself, which would provide higher, clearer line of sight, but he saw the glass structure would leave him too exposed and obvious. The bathroom wasn't a pretty alternative, but he chose his overlooks on quality, not smell.

Easing back into a half-sit, half-kneel, he rested the rifle barrel on the windowsill, fitted the stock against his shoulder, and put his eye to the scope. Part of him felt a rush of relief and familiarity, like returning home after too long away. All these close-quarters missions had started to get under his skin. This is where he belonged; a shadow amongst its brethren, viewing the battlefield through magnified crosshairs, each shot a conscious statement not to be wasted. The battle between McCullen's marines and the Venomian army raged half a mile away, the deafening noise of battle muffled and delayed just the way he was used to.

_"This is One. Hostiles entering our back yard. On my mark. Delaine, you set up for overwatch?"_

"Yes, sir."

_"Copy. Stand by."_

Delaine beaded in on the two side alleys where Gage and Ley hid, waiting to spring the trap. An enemy APC and a couple squads of Venomians were the first to break away from the main fight, retreating fast, probably to set up the next strong point to which their buddies could fall back to.

Dagger had other plans.

_"Boom."_

The row of hidden explosives erupted in massive pillars of flame, tearing apart the road and the buildings on either side. Delaine even felt some heat on his face from his position and the bathroom vibrated for a few moments. The smoke let up enough to show the APC had been destroyed and the squads mostly vaporized, but already the Venomians were pressing the attack, stuck between the trap and the marines' forces. Using the smoke as cover, Ley and Gage let off a mag each up the road at the encroaching Venomians and fell back under the cover of Braddock and Tien, who crouched behind a couple abandoned cars a hundred meters nearer to Artemis Tower.

Delaine's breathing remained steady and he blinked one last time. His finger embraced the trigger and squeezed.

The first soldier to break the smoke caught a bullet in the head that felled him instantly. Another APC rolled past the metal husk of the other, startled soldiers using it for cover and looking around wildly, trying to figure out what was happening. Delaine picked them off at will, his crosshairs moving on before each body even hit the ground. Priority was given to those who raised their guns to fire at his teammates, none getting a shot off without paying for it with his life.

"Be not far from me, Lord, for trouble is near. Haste Thee to help me."

The wolf pulled the empty mag free and slapped in a new one.

"Blessed be the Lord, my strength, which teacheth my hands to war…" A soldier seemed to catch on to where the fire was coming from but he fell before he could report it. More soldiers poured forth, more than Dagger's combined fire could keep back. "…and my fingers to fight."

Another empty mag clattered to the floor, and a fresh one took its place.

"My goodness and my justice; the truth of my eye and the keen of my aim…" The soldiers fanned out and streaked forward, forcing his teammates to fall back to the road around Artemis Tower. Delaine provided cover, continuing to kill the soldiers who stopped to fire, but he couldn't keep up with all of them. "…in thee I trust, Lord, my deliverer. Without you I stand as a tower; with you I stand as a mountain."

_"Enemy approaching phase line bravo!" _Gage reported over the noise. _"Waiting for them to get a bit closer!"_

Delaine averted his eyes as the second line of explosives blew, taking another APC and another group of unwitting Venomians with it. With the added distraction, his teammates fell back across the road to the Artemis circle plaza, taking cover behind the decorative concrete walls and statuary. His crosshairs found dazed soldiers stumbling out from the smoke and wreckage and he put them down before they could gather enough wits to shoot.

No soldiers followed, and the little bit of activity he could see through the smoke shuffled around behind the cover of the first APC's smoldering shell. He knew what it meant; they finally made his position. But still he didn't fall back, not until every one of his teammates had reached cover. He waited for the confirmation in his ear, enemy fire beginning to be directed toward his building.

_"This is it, Dagger! We don't move from here, and we don't let them past! Preacher, we've reached phase line charlie! Abandon overwatch and get back here!"_

"On my way, sir."

Delaine dropped one last soldier who peeked his head over for a look and was about to pull his rifle back inside when his scope caught the dull gleam of metal breaking through the torrent of smoke. He immediately recognized it and his stomach tightened. When the tank's main gun wisped into view, his crosshairs were staring right down the barrel.

_"Tank! Delaine get the hell out—"_

The wolf's hand went for his cross again, the battle mirrored in his frightened eyes, and he started one last prayer. "Lord…"

-

* * *

-

"Del!"

Ley's scream put the cacophony of war to shame.

Gage's gut wrenched when he saw the energy blast tear into the tenement building. The force of the explosion blew Delaine out the other side of the corner restroom and though he grabbed the broken wall to save himself, a concussion took over and he fell unconscious. His team could only watch as he dropped, skipping along stone outcroppings and window planters, teasing with sudden breaks in his fall. But the bottom five stories had nothing to delay his descent; he plummeted and crashed onto the roof of a parked car along the side of the road, glass shattering and spewed in every direction as his weight crumpled the metal.

Gage didn't try to stop Ley when she broke cover to sprint to her friend; instead he gave her all the cover fire he could, letting loose with his rifle down the street toward the oncoming horde of Venomians and tanks. Though fazed and interrupted by the second trap, they worked their way around the flaming wreckage and were renewing their assault on Artemis Tower. The leopardess hesitated only a moment at Delaine's side, probably wondering whether it was okay to move him, but it was either move him or leave him to the Venomians. The risk seemed acceptable.

With the wolf draped over her shoulders, Ley started back and her teammates suppressed the infantry once more, burning through a good chunk of what little ammo remained. A laser took her in the thigh and she dropped to one knee under the weight of her cargo, but with grinding teeth and fiery eyes, she pushed herself up and finished out the rest of the way to cover. Keeping his head down, Gage scuttled over to where she knelt behind the low concrete wall while Tien and Braddock kept up the defense.

"Low pulse," Ley reported, her voice shaking either from the pain of her wound or the pain of her friend's wounds. "He's alive but he won't be for long. Over a dozen broken bones, signs of internal bleeding, massive concussion…"

"He's lucky to be breathing at all after that fall. Stabilize him as best you can and get back in the fight; he's dead anyway if they break through."

"You stupid son of a bitch," the leopardess snarled at the bloody, bruised face under her. "I told you it was bad luck, but nooo…stupid bastard."

Gage tore himself away, not allowing the effect of seeing his teammate that way overcome him. With enemy fire now concentrated rather than just smatterings, he kept his head low as he returned to Tien and Braddock. A tank blast blew apart the walkway not fifty feet from them, messing with his hearing once more. The tiger and bear ducked to reload and called out the words no defensive commander longs to hear.

"Last mag!"

Gage fired the remainder of his own rifle before tossing it to the ground and pulling Fara's pistol into action. The plinking was inconsequential but it felt better than doing nothing.

"McCullen!" Gage shouted into his comm. "You've got three minutes tops 'til we're corpses! What the hell's happening?!"

_"They know you're the weaker force! They're concentrating on you! We're pounding their rear but we can't keep up with their full retreat!"_

"Braddock's down!"

Gage whipped his head around to see the bear writhing on the ground, a quartet of laser score marks along his abdomen. Tien stood slightly to rush to him and got nailed in the shoulder plate, sending him reeling to the ground as well. Groaning against the burn, he crawled the rest of the way to Braddock to tend to him.

Gage stood and emptied his handgun clip at the wall of opposition, ducking back as a return barrage of fire seared the air around him and signed his fur. With that much coming at them, they wouldn't even be able to retreat back into the tower.

_This is it._

_ You're all dead._

_ Your team will be wiped out._

_ You'll never see Fara again._

"Fuck off," he growled at himself, slapping in a fresh clip. He rose and was only able to get a few shots off before being forced back down. He knew what was coming; despite his team's conviction in fighting to the last man, they weren't stupid. Tien and Ley gave shots over the wall as well, but status chatter and ammo updates had ceased. There was nothing left to report. They'd be dead in a matter of moments and they were going to take as many Venomians with them as possible.

"McCullen." The fox's voice was calm, deliberate, as he called to report that his team couldn't hold. "McCullen, come in."

A burst of interference interrupted him and his HUD signaled an unknown source trying to make contact. He allowed it to merge with the channel and strained to hear past the battle around him.

"This is Dagger One. Identify."

_"There you are, Captain Birse. Been hitting some bad comm signals. This is Falcon kilo-foxtrot-two-two-seven of the Macbethian Air Defense Force on approach to Artemis Tower. My squadron's been given an emergency redirect protocol by a callsign Laren. All security codes check out. Where do you need me, sir?"_

Gage blinked. "What are you carrying, two-two-seven?"

_"Four Warbird bombers with full ground support payload, sir."_

Gage mustered a tiny grin and shook his head. He didn't bother to speculate how Laren sent him this little gift, he just worried about putting it into action. "Two-two-seven, I need immediate fire mission north of Artemis plaza. Multiple soft targets. Danger close."

_"Uh, I roger that. Scans showing a lot of activity down there, sir, I need HUD confirmation of target area."_

"Synching with channel now." Gage popped his head up just enough to target the circle road outside Artemis plaza and send the target destination to his HUD log.

_"Received, sir. That's definitely danger close, please confirm order."_

"Hit it, airman!"

_"Acknowledged. Falcon kilo-foxtrot-two-two-seven on approach to grid three-four-niner, dropping full payload at target designation. Find some cover."_

The four bombers swooped low over the city, the whine of their thrusters building in intensity as they streaked toward their target. Ley sprawled herself over Delaine and Gage ducked low with Tien and Braddock as the whine gave way to explosions, a long string of them raining down with all the heat and fury of hell itself. Artemis Tower's windows shattered, the explosive force luckily shoving the bulk of the shards away into the building. Gage kept his eyes closed and head down as the ground shook and the heat intensified. The carpet bomb only lasted a few seconds, but its effect swept over Artemis plaza in a cloud of debris, ash, and smoke.

_"This is Falcon kilo-foxtrot-two-two-seven. Target area has been turned to dust, including hostiles. Not much left moving down there, Dagger One."_

Gage hacked and coughed on the billow of smoke and finally choked out, "Copy that. I owe you a round, two-two-seven, really saved our asses."

_"Glad to help, Dagger One. Squadron is RTB to rearm and return to assignment. Over and out."_

Gage looked over the wall to see most of the city block beyond the road obliterated, a stretch of flaming debris. All enemy fire had ceased; he couldn't even see anything beyond the initial flames. And that was fine with him.

"_Dagger, this is McCullen! Report!"_

Gage groaned, his aching body catching up with him now that he had a moment to risk a few relaxing breaths. "This is Dagger One. Macbethian bombers decided to join the fight. How's it looking over there?"

_"Remaining Venomians are either surrendering or scattering. I don't want to jinx it, but I think we won this one."_

"We need medevacs immediately; two badly wounded."

_"I'll send what I can spare ahead right away. Good work, captain. The odds were against us."_

"Just another day on the job." Gage cut the comm and made his over to check on Braddock and Delaine, letting himself relish the relative silence of the crackling fire from the bombing run. Ley still appeared grim over the sniper's condition and Braddock didn't give a straight answer as usual about his wounds, just stating, "I'll live." They'd have to wait for a medic's report.

As Gage slowly descended the plaza stairs to greet the marine medics, he realized he still held tight to Fara's pistol. The phoenix etching she had carved into the black metal shown bright in the fire's dancing flames. With a tired grin, Gage looked at it and spoke to her through it. "I guess the SEC-29's not so bad." He glanced over his shoulder at Artemis Tower, then ran his finger over the rough phoenix. "Hold on a little longer. I'm coming home."

-

**_-Chapter 23 Coming Soon-_**


	30. Lylat's Stand: Starfox

[Author's Note: Firstly, my apologies for I think the longest gap in updates yet. Things have been busy, not to mention holiday-related complications. This chapter was also quite difficult but I'm happy with the results and I hope you all are as well. I STRONGLY suggest skimming or reacquainting yourself with the last two chapters, as they all revolve around the same events and this chapter takes place at the same time as the last chapter. Lastly, a separate apology for my lack of reviews or reading to those I frequent or told I'd do so. With all the chaos this month, I've been devoting what time I had to this chapter, but I'll be back on track now. But enough from me. Thanks for reading and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 23  
Lylat's Stand - Part Two: Starfox  
Beloved  
_LDC Vanguard battle group formation, Macbeth orbit  
1510 hours Macbeth City local  
_

-

Fox drifted near his unnamed mothership, his fingers loose at his Arwing's controls, his gaze resting upon the fresh-painted red winged fox emblem that adorned the aft hull. The emblem on the Great Fox had been so worn by time and combat; he had meant to get it retouched along with a bunch of other repairs but he never got around to it. There was something proud in that old emblem, like an army's standard in ancient battles fluttering under the hail of arrows and cannon. The emblem had been tested and proved itself to still be standing after the chaos had settled. Though the red winged Starfox insignia was identical to the emblem on the old Great Fox, its shiny surface showed its youth. Starfox had been beaten and battered, old origins, comforts, and certainties unearthed as false, the team itself killed and tortured by the betrayal.

That old battleworn emblem belonged to a more confident, naïve Starfox. Perhaps even James McCloud's Starfox. But the young emblem that stared back at its captain from the unproven mothership belonged to Fox. This was Fox's ship. Fox's emblem. Fox's war.

Fox's enemy.

And there was no middle ground. The emblem would either earn its first proud scars or join the rest of the debris orbiting Venom in defeat.

_"Hey, you awake over there?"_

Falco's Arwing swooped before him, lazily maneuvering close to the INH, much closer than safety suggested.

"Just thinking," Fox replied, touching his boosters to shoot past the emblem. "Have the last batch of reinforcements cleared Macbeth yet?"

_"Yeah, should be here in a few minutes. It ain't enough though."_

Fox shot ahead and turned back to get a good look at the allied battle formation. The Vanguard remained at the center, its battle scarred yet tough exterior hiding its internal power and armament problems. To its left was the lone heavy capital ship Macbeth would send, an assault cruiser that somewhat made up for some of the Vanguard's destroyed guns. Half a dozen frigates from Macbeth and Zoness stretched out in a line formation from their larger brethren, each one nearly the size of the INH but nowhere near as state of the art. Nearly two hundred fighters filled the gaps, most hailing from the Vanguard but other expeditionary forces from the nearby allied planets had joined as well. It was a decent-sized force for a quick muster schedule and tons of LDC red tape and planetary government reluctance to weaken defenses, but as Falco stated, Dianus had the upper hand.

_"Final contractors clearing Macbeth checkpoint," _the monotone Vanguard operations officer broadcasted. _"All contractors take up escort formation at designated zones."_

Multiple fleeting streaks of blue lit up the rear of the formation as mercenary units, most recognizable to Fox but some obscure, disengaged cruise speed. As they fanned out and took up position near the frigates, he was glad to see some heavier motherships amidst the fighters. Some of them belonged to expensive, high-profile mercs…Fox wondered how far off his budget McGarret had gone to hire as many as he could. Though dealing with the navy's finance department probably wasn't at the top of the old wolf's concerns.

_"This is Admiral McGarret to all allied forces. We've just picked up a cruise jump from the enemy fleet. Expect engagement in a matter of minutes. Everyone get the lead out and get to your positions immediately. I don't need to tell you all what's at stake here and how many lives on Macbeth are riding on this battle. There will be _no_ retreat! Contractors, if you so much as blink at my orders or leave the combat area your contracts will be void. I trust I don't need to be clearer than that. All LDC forces report in."_

_ "Bulldog unit standing by."_

_ "34__th__ Star Breakers standing by."_

_ "80__th__ Specters standing by."_

_ "Calliope unit good to go."_

_ "12__th__ Ravens standing by."_

_ "Tempest unit standing by."_

All must have checked out; McGarret continued with, _"Mercenary units, report in by designation numeral."_

_ "This is Alleycat One, we're set and ready."_

_ "Viper wing standing by."_

_ "What? Oh, uh…yeah, that's us. Rager squadron all here."_

_ "Moron. Icestorm standing by."_

_ "Arcothans. Ready."_

"_Strike Vixens standing by."_

"_This is the Black Bird. I'm here."_

"_Bloodhounds, all good."_

_ "Starfox standing by."_

_ "That's_ all_ of Starfox standing by, admiral."_

Fox blinked at the familiar voice and looked at his console as a long-nulled Arwing signature blinked green again and joined Falco's technical readout. "Peppy?"

_"Welcome back, Mister Hare," _McGarret said._ "All allied forces keep tuned to your battlegroup frequencies and engage on command. Good luck and give 'em hell."_

Fox switched to his team's private channel as Peppy's Arwing broke away from the flock of newcomers and boosted toward the INH. "Peppy…how did you…?"

_"Beltino filled me in. I almost lost a son to Dianus like he did. He thought I'd want to get back in the fight. He was right."_

"I dunno, old man," Falco replied, echoing Fox's own thoughts. "This one ain't exactly in the bag. No sense leaving your family just to get killed out here."

_"Anna always knew exactly who she married and I never sugar-coated my job to my son. Besides, Starfox is my other family and I owe just as much to her. I always considered you family, Fox. Slippy and the Toad family were always very close. And Falco…well, I guess I have to put up with you because Fox likes you."_

The three shared a chuckle as Peppy eased into his usual escort position to the lower starboard of the INH but Fox still didn't like the idea of Peppy being involved in such a steeped fight.

"Listen, Peppy—," he began but the hare must've expected more opposition, for he cut him off early.

_"Fox, let it be. We all have unfinished fights. You're still young; you'll have plenty. This is one of mine and I'm going to be here when it's finished. I'm going to be here when Dianus falls. Surely I don't have to tell you why that's worth the risk."_

Fox sighed through his nose but made no further attempts to sway him. He knew how important it was to himself to fight this stain on the McCloud name, the lies and betrayal, but he realized that Peppy probably felt no lighter a burden. Part of him felt guilty for assuming even for a moment that Peppy wasn't as much family to the McClouds as Fox himself.

Fox even allowed himself a little grin upon seeing the fellow Arwing in its position once more. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad to have you back. Losing Slippy was hard enough but with you gone also it felt empty around here."

_"I'd imagine. This has been a trying few weeks for the team and you've held it up remarkably well."_

"Well, I had help. Robin kept Falco distracted so I could get some real work done."

Falco grunted. _"Okay, we get it; I'm the one to make fun of 'til we hire a new guy. Har har, real witty. Now shut the hell up."_

_ "Just making up for lost time, m'boy."_

The reunion was cut short by more technical chatter from the Vanguard comm officers tracking the enemy fleet. Within minutes, the telltale shimmer of vessels in cruise speed distorted distant starlight. Fox knew what was coming and brought his shield and weapon capacitors to full. "Robin, how's the old girl doing?"

_"Oh, I'm fine, sir, thank you for asking."_

He rolled his eyes. "Not you, the ship. All systems go? You remember the engagement orders?"

_"Yes, sir, all systems nominal. The insert name here is set for aggressive attack and support patterns."_

"And what did we agree about emotional voice responses?"

Robin hesitated and when she replied her chipper voice had an unusually lifelike tinge of pouting to it. _"No taunting or battle cries. Comms for mission-critical speaking only."_

Fox intended to squeeze in one last systems scan on his own Arwing but the Venomians cut his options short. In the blink of an eye, the warp distortion ended and he finally got his first look at Project Atlas.

_"Holy shit…" _Falco summed up.

Other pilots reflected the curt sentiment as the Atlas, a roughhewn replica of the Vanguard, lumbered toward them with four Venomian cruiser escorts. The surprise and awe in Fox and, he assumed, the other Lylatians came not from the ship's size or imposing presence, for the Vanguard had already earned those responses. Rather, the Atlas touched upon fear. While its chassis and construction followed closely the same plans as the Vanguard, it lacked the sleek trimming, refinement, and post-production that brought the Cornerian version from simple vessel to LDC flagship. With the glossy façade, paint, and rounded edges peeled away, the Atlas appeared jagged, dull gray and brown, and built not for press photo-ops or keeping peace, but for raining hell upon anything in its way. There was no denying the aura of brute power the Atlas gave off with its single-minded construction, like a sharp, dirty, city-sized torture device. As Fox stared at it he could imagine the Vanguard plunging into the depths of hell and erupt out the other side looking like that.

_"Cut the chatter!" _McGarret snapped_. "Keep engines below twenty percent impulse and move to engage."_

"Dagger better get control of that station," Fox said in his team's channel as the Arwings and their mothership raised their thrusters. "We're gonna need a miracle and Bolse is the closest thing we've got."

As the two fleets closed the gap, hundreds of hands tensed around controls and hundreds of eyes fused open in focus or fear, fighters poured from the Atlas like hornets from the hive, blotting out the sickly yellow form of Venom.

But as if in defiance to the show of force, the Vanguard fired the first salvo of the battle, a series of yellow energy bursts from its fore cannon battery that impacted and dissipated against the Atlas' shields. But the ineffective shot was just the spark that ignited the keg; the Venomian fleet responded with a tempest to overshadow the Vanguard's spurt, lasers and energy discharges lancing the space around its enemies, impacting against shields, and exploding in fleeting flashes.

And with his teeth gritted against it and his team at his side, Fox boosted right into the storm.

-

* * *

-

"The fleet has engaged, ma'am. The enemy forces include varying fighters, one Broadhead-class cruiser, and multiple frigates, both military and contractor, in support of the Vanguard."

Dianus grinned. How desperately McGarret had swept up as many ships and men as possible! How desperate, and how futile. She slowly turned a full rotation, her eyes scanning each large holoscreen in the domed control room, dozens of Venomian technicians scrambling to keep up to date with the battle. Though the control dome was shielded and opaque, she still felt like she could see and feel the desert of Venom all around her, urging her on, screaming with her at the enemies who stood in her fleet's path. And with them was the soul of her long-dead husband, cut down so long ago on that very planet, living through her.

_But which husband?_

Dianus frowned at the sudden thought, upset that at such a victorious moment she could dare think of James McCloud. He was never a husband, just a pathetic man who served her purposes and proved weak when strength was called for. He didn't deserve to be mentioned in the same sentence as her beloved Andross, much less compared to him.

"Report on the Artemis Tower situation," she ordered sharply, pulling herself away from the thoughts. Her violet dress fluttered about her ankles as she paced her raised dais at the center of the dome.

"One pod breached the building but security teams have the intruders outnumbered and pinned down. The other pod crashed over a mile away and caught fire. Chances of survival are negligible."

The vixen's grin returned and she thought aloud, "That's you, isn't it, Dagger? A thorn in Venom's side for so long and now so easily disposed of. Another casualty of a desperate admiral."

She watched the titanic battle between the Atlas and the Vanguard unfold on the holoscreens, fighters dancing with each other before ending with an abrupt explosion, monstrous energy bursts from the capital ships impacting each other to devastating effect. The cruisers kept the fighters and frigates at bay while the Atlas bombarded the Vanguard, whittling down its shields and causing minor hull breaches. The Atlas itself held firm with still ninety-percent shields, its rate of decrease far slower than that of the Cornerian Titan. At this rate, the enemy forces would be annihilated within the hour. Dianus' grin widened as another Cornerian frigate took a cruiser blast that tore through the last of its shield and hull around its ammo cache. The explosion crippled the frigate like a pitiful wounded animal before a final blast vaporized it.

_This is for you, beloved, _she thought, her heart racing with the pride of bringing Andross' fury back to Lylat's shores. _You can finally rest seeing your enemies bow before your might. It's as we always dreamed! All I've worked and suffered for these past years to make that dream come true. Now I can—_

Dianus' excited smile dropped like a brick and her eyes focused on the holoscreen to the dome's north. The battle filled the screen, fighters swooping around a cluster of Cornerians that had engaged one of the cruisers, the enemies taking punishment for being so far ahead. She recognized the ship at the center of the maelstrom and sucked in a quick breath upon seeing it so battered.

"You there!" Dianus stepped down from her dais and came up behind the seated technician at the station. "Focus in on the vessel in the upper left quadrant!"

"Yes, ma'am."

The canine Venomian found just enough time to zoom in the quadrant before yelping in pain as his mistress' fingers clenched around his head fur and thrust him painfully forward toward the screen.

"What does that look like to you?!" she demanded, her free finger pointing at the frigate-sized vessel.

"It…it…it's a mercenary ship, ma'am. Temporary transponder code, no registration callsign."

"And the Arwings sticking near it like hatchlings to their nest? That doesn't clue you in as to its owner?"

The technician swallowed the pain from his pulled fur, not daring to struggle in the least. "Yes, ma'am…but…but we weren't sure, and the ship is posing a sizeable threat to cruiser and fighter support on the Atlas' port flank—"

"I don't care!" Dianus released the head with a violent shove. "My orders were explicit; I want Starfox bruised and pinned but _not_ killed! Redirect whatever fighters are needed to keep them out of the fleet's way but do not kill them. McCloud is mine to handle, and mine alone. I'll pull him from the battle when I see fit."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll remind the pilots." The canine technician reluctantly added, "What of cruiser Serris? It's directly engaged with Starfox and several other enemy squadrons. Its shields have been—"

"Order it to engage solely Cornerian military targets and redirect their fighter support to other hotspots." Dianus returned to her dais, a wry smile creeping onto her muzzle. "And reassure its crew that their sacrifice will be forever appreciated by Venom's children. The Serris should keep Starfox and the port flank busy until the Vanguard is destroyed."

With a last glance at Starfox's replacement for the Great Fox, the vixen sat in her commander's chair, crossed her legs, and turned her attention to the other holoscreens and other areas of the battle where her fleet's dominance proved to be no less superior. The image of the Vanguard held her attention for some time; she could feel its pain and hear its screams for mercy with each blast and each new eruption on its hull, and they only made her excitement stronger. She had hoped to obliterate McGarret's resistance with minimal loss but the Cornerians proved resilient in bringing one of her cruisers to its knees. Doubtless due in no small part to Starfox. No matter; she could have lost three cruisers and still not broken a sweat in defeating the Lylatians.

For the next fifteen minutes, Dianus slowly swiveled her chair, enjoying the battle as it climaxed in intensity, feeling an uncertain yet undeniable elation, as if she had made the first critical move early in a chess match that ensured her success. All that remained was to wait for the pieces to fall. Sporadic reports from her dome crew only confirmed her expectations, that McGarret's stand was quickly crumbling under the might of Andross' legacy. So much more to conquer in Venom's name…so many more kings to topple over…

"Atlas shields holding," a technician reported. "Reduced enemy strength can't outpace internal regeneration. Atlas bridge has sent numerous demands to the Vanguard regarding surrender but—"

"He won't," Dianus mused. "McGarret will die with his quaint honor. And once he has the rest will scatter like vermin from a predator. Give me the Vanguard's system scan report."

"Shields are below red, barely dampening the Atlas' bombardments. Engines and main weapon systems are—"

"Ma'am!"

With an annoyed furrow in her brow, Dianus swiveled to face the lizard technician that had interrupted the report.

"A jump effect has been detected approaching Macbeth."

"What?" The furrow deepened as she stood. "The LDC hasn't sent any reinforcements. Where is its origin?"

"Unknown, ma'am. But the jump signature suggests at least one capital ship."

Dianus frowned. She had doubted that there remained this many brave combatants left in Lylat, the planets weakened and coddled by years of peace. But it mattered not; the brave die as easily as the cowardly beneath overwhelming power. "I think the time has come to break their backs. Order the Atlas to retreat further toward Bolse and have the cruisers follow. Keep Artemis control on standby and prepare to fire. If these newcomers are so eager to die then they can join the Vanguard as a spread of debris."

-

* * *

-

Fox wiped his brow with his sleeve, the first moment since the battle began where he could release a hand from his controls for so much as a second. He pulled away from the fighter he had downed and felt the pit in his gut grow as the battlefield swept before his canopy, from the steadfast Venomian line, past the turbulent middleground where lasers and explosions lit as numerous as the stars themselves, to the ravaged Cornerian blockade. Half the frigates had been destroyed, their seared hulls lolling amongst the growing casualties. The other frigates were on their last legs, fending off waves of fighters, while the one lone allied cruiser Bellerophon nipped at the Atlas and enemy cruisers with all she had. None of them showed much in the way of shields, flickers of flame from hull breaches marring their surfaces.

_"Fuck't all! Vipers, pull out now! We're not losing another man in this bullshit suicide fight!"_

Fox grimaced as yet another mercenary team ditched the battle, though at least the Vipers stuck around for more than ten minutes. Only the Strike Vixens, Bloodhounds, Black Bird, and Icestorm remained.

And Starfox…though for how much longer Fox was becoming uncertain.

"Robin," the fox said, eyeing the readout of his teammates' dwindling shields. "Status report."

_"The insert name here will lose all shields in seven minutes at current rate of absorption. Multiple shield breaches and hull impacts have hampered critical systems and caused capacitor rerouting but the ship is stable for the moment. I have shot down twenty-four fighters and done critical damage to enemy cruiser Serris' shields. Recommend we fall back to regain capacitor strength."_

"Fall back to where?" Falco growled, the roar in his throat emphasized as he loosed a burst at an enemy fighter that blew out its engine and caused it to veer and explode. "The entire fleet's screwed!"

"He's right," Fox said, his voice calmer yet strained with the tension of the fight. "We have to keep on the attack and hope that Gage gets his ass in gear sometime soon." At that thought Fox opened up his broad channel and said, "Starfox to Vanguard support. Any word from Captain Birse?"

_"Hold!" _the frazzled technician snapped, cutting him off while he attended to whatever else he had been doing.

Fox took the moment to shoot into a fast circle around the INH and come up behind a duo of fighters that had tried to swing around for an attack on the starboard thruster bank. He nailed one before they even knew he was there, his blue lasers ripping through the chassis. The other tried to bail on his attack run but Fox led him and put a single twin blast into his line of flight. The Venomian pilot flew right into the shot and jerked from the impact before exploding.

_"On me!"_ Peppy barked. _"Got a bugger close to my tail, trying to lose him near the INH."_

"Go hard past the bridge toward starboard and pull up. Peek-a-boo attack."

_"On it."_

Fox glanced down at his scanner to estimate Peppy's distance and gunned the thrusters, sending him shooting around the bridge. The old hare's Arwing was waiting for him, bearing down on him fast on a collision course, but Peppy hit the brakes and pulled up, leaving his pursuer wide open. Fox laid into the undoubtedly surprised pilot and vaporized the fighter, his Arwing blowing through the cloud of vapor and powdered debris left in the attack's wake.

_"Thanks, Fox."_

"No problem. Bet you got an eyeful of that, Robin."

_"No, sir, the reinforced bridge glass protected my ocular systems from the shockwave and energy discharges."_

In a less dire situation, Fox might have found the time to poke fun at her but he just wiped the new sweat from his forehead and uttered, "That's good."

_"Vanguard support to Fox McCloud. Go ahead." _The urgency in the tech's voice told him that the atmosphere inside the Vanguard was as chaotic as its outside appearance suggested.

"Any word from Captain Birse yet? What's going on down there?"

_"Nothing yet, sir. Artemis Tower is projecting a communication dampener and Captain Birse's pod veered off course during its insertion. They could be dead already for all we know."_

Fox pursed his lips. "Copy. Out." He knew he didn't have time to worry about whether Gage was dead or not but if the resistance on Macbeth was anywhere near as fervent as the orbital battle, what chance did he have?

_"Where you pansies going?" _Falco's adrenaline-fueled snarl crackled in Fox's ear. _"We must be making some kind of impression; little bastards are cowering back."_

_ "Indeed, sir," _Robin agreed._ "The Serris has directed most of its fire elsewhere; our capacitors are just barely keeping regeneration above damage received."_

"Well, don't think about a lucky break, use it. Robin, concentrate all fire on the Serris; Falco, Peppy, stagger formation with me. Go for the rear port power vein. Nothing we haven't done a thousand times before on these hunks of junk."

His teammates shot into place behind him, the hare commenting, _"All things considered, there's something comforting about fighting good old Venomian ships again."_

_"Something even more comforting about blowing them to hell,"_ Falco grunted, _"so get going."_

Under cover from the blinding fire support of the INH, Starfox streaked closer to the Serris where allied fighters had fought, died, and retreated from a long time before. Robin's shots breached the shields so Fox followed suit, hoping the Arwing's guns could do the same. He darted close to the cruiser and kept the trigger down, blue energy tearing through whatever remained of the shield energy and ripping up the hull with a series of satisfying spark bursts. He kept it up as long as he could before finally pulling up, his belly nearly scraping the surface. More flashes from behind told him that his teammates had injured the metal beast as well.

"Bombing run, go!"

The three Arwings pulled into a U-turn and boosted toward the scars they had created. Their smart bombs were fired nearly simultaneously and exploded on impact against the hull, the massive burst of light and fury making Fox's craft shudder so hard he nearly cracked his head on the canopy. After gaining a safe distance he turned back in time to see the crippled cruiser list and yaw like a whale in its death throes. The power vein erupted in a long crack along the length of the ship and the escaping oxygen lit the flame that put the Venomian vessel out of its misery. Internal explosions blew the ship apart from the inside; when the flashes had settled and Fox blinked his vision back to normal all that remained was more debris for the field.

_"Cruiser Serris has been destroyed!" _a Vanguard comms tech said over the broad channel. _"All right flank forces move in to engage cruiser Zephyr."_

_ "Vanguard, this is Commander Grey of Husky squadron! Request reinforcements from right flank! The Bellerophon is getting hit hard and we can't defend her! Reading at least seventy percent fighter loss from allied squadrons!"_

_ "Request acknowledged, Husky One. Relaying—"_

Fox had anticipated the request and was all set to cross the no-man's-land to reinforce Bill and the ravaged Lylatian left flank, but the surge of energy from destroying the Serris – a small victory given the situation, but a much-needed morale boost nonetheless – went up in smoke in an instant. Fox should have seen it coming but even expecting it didn't prepare him for it; nothing ever truly prepares someone for watching a friendly capital ship explode, taking so many lives with it. A titanic volley from the half-dozen fore cannons of the Atlas bombarded the Bellerophon and he could see the outcome in his mind's eye even as it unfolded.

The technician's panicked voice reemerged. _"The Bell is down! I repeat, cruiser Bellerophon is down!"_

Fox could only watch as the Vanguard battlegroup's only heavy hitter besides the Vanguard itself cracked apart. Explosions pocked its surface until it went up in a last oxygen-fueled fireball, just as the Serris had done. Silence followed over the comms, the last of the allied Lylatians vigor sapped. Fox expected to hear more panicked or subdued orders from the various mission support techs but instead he heard perhaps the one voice left on the Macbethian front that hadn't lost a shred of determination.

_"What the hell are you all waiting for?"_ McGarret barked, his voice a swell of ferocity. _"Husky, take the remainder of left flank and pound those cruisers! Right flank stay where you are! Move like the galaxy depends on it for God's sake! You think those men died so you can sit there with your goddamn jaws hanging open?!"_

If anyone had a problem with his orders, they kept it to themselves.

Starfox, sticking close to the INH, headed for the Zephyr, the enemy cruiser nearer the Atlas, and was met with a new swarm of fighters. Fox ordered the team to break formation and engage at will while the INH hit the Zephyr. Fighter after fighter came at him and darted away, almost as if they were taunting him then breaking off before he could line up a decent shot or achieve lock-on. He'd barely been paying attention to his own shields and saw that regeneration had brought him nearly to full. Was anyone even shooting at him?

As if to mirror his thoughts, Falco spat, _"What the hell's with these guys? They forget to install the guns or something? Stay still you son of a—"_

_"You too?"_ Peppy said. _"I only got one so far. It's like they're trying to stall us."_

"Robin, status report."

_"Shields regaining at a steady pace. The Zephyr is returning fire from its port batteries but is directing most of its fire at other squadrons. Also…one moment, sir…yes, it appears to be slowly reversing thrust."_

Fox cocked an eyebrow. "It's falling back?" For some reason, he found that more disconcerting than if the enemies attacked full force. "Why would Dianus try to drag us toward Bolse when we're almost decimated? Robin, report this to the Vanguard."

_"Already done, sir."_

No matter whether the Zephyr wanted to run or not, Fox was determined to stay with it until Bolse was a threat. He looped around the fighters, their dodging and weaving constantly adding frustration. After five minutes of the deadly dance, he had only taken down a few.

_"Admiral McGarret to all allied forces." _The old wolf's voice had lost some of its edge, concern darkening his words_. "Information indicates that the enemy fleet is drawing us back into Bolse's range. We've also picked up a jump signal nearing our position but the LDC has not contacted us regarding reinforcements. Stand by and prepare to shift attack if the new contacts are hostile."_

The pit grew again in Fox's gut.

The Lylatians were barely holding on as it was; any more enemies would be the final nail in the coffin. He didn't have long to wait; a warp anomaly shimmered in the distance, a few miles to the side of the Vanguard, and capital ships blinked into existence, one after another, an imposing force of ten. Through the bursts and debris they closed the gap from their warp point to the battlefield, their fresh, unscarred facades a sharp contrast to the ravaged ships before them.

Fox recognized the vessels even before his ship's computer picked them up, and before he heard the familiar, gruff voice.

_"Admiral McGarret! I must say…it feels good to be the rescuer this time around rather than the one needing rescue."_

McGarret made no effort to hide his relief. _"Admiral Henriksen! I would've saved more targets for you if I knew you were coming. When did the LDC get its head out of its ass?"_

_ "It's still firmly planted there, Thomas. My fleet is due for 'defensive patrols' around Sector X. I just decided to take the long way."_

_ "You have my gratitude, admiral. We're on our last legs here."_

_ "Well, Dianus mistook me for a feeble old man when her cronies attacked me on Corneria. What do you say we show her what a couple obsolete old war dogs can do?"_

Fox grinned as Henriksen's fleet moved to take over the point position for the Vanguard. Henriksen's flagship carrier _Phalanx_ soared with fearless pride, its guns opening up on the enemy cruisers and the Atlas as soon as they were in range. The rest of his battlegroup consisted of destroyers and battleships, each one engaging with fresh tenacity that inspired the weary Vanguard fleet to join in and push the attack. Venomian fighters dropped like flies around the turrets of the capital ships and the cruisers already showed signs of hull breaches. As he whipped around to reengage, Fox had to chuckle at Admiral Henriksen's initial comment; the last time the two had fought together, Starfox was fending off the Venomian invasion force at Sector Y at the outset of the war, Henriksen's defense fleet all but annihilated. Even recently, Gage had rescued him from Leon in Corneria City. Fox could only imagine how much Henriksen wanted to get another crack at Venom.

And his efforts didn't disappoint.

-

* * *

-

"Old fool!" Dianus clenched her fists, her fingerclaws digging into her palms. She gritted her teeth in subdued rage and forced herself to relish the anger, to let it build up and savor it so the enemy's imminent defeat could be savored more thoroughly. "They think throwing a few more of their little toys at me will work? Send the order to all ships: fall back at eighty percent impulse! I want Bolse to crush this scum into submission! I want whatever's left of their charred flesh to litter the dead of space around Venom!"

The comm technician quickly followed the order. "Yes, ma'am."

"Ma'am?" A feline at the relay station to her left looked up at her, his contorted face betraying any confidence he had in bearing his news. "Artemis Tower is unresponsive. It could, uh…it could be momentary interference from the communication blackout net."

Dianus' returned a searing glare. "Then. Fix. It."

"It'll just be a minute, ma'am."

With her inflamed eyes the vixen watched her fleet fall back, dragging the bold enemy vessels with it. With the Vanguard so near destruction she could taste the smoke from its demise on the tip of her tongue. Just one shot from the Bolse would end it, just one beam of righteous retribution from Venom's protector…

"Ma'am…Bolse…it's begun firing preparation and is shifting position."

_Farewell, McGarret. At least you died fighting. _"Good. Target the Vanguard and—"

"But there's still no communication connection, ma'am. The Artemis Tower crew hasn't checked in for clearance or coordinates."

Dianus stepped down from her dais and was spared having to shove the technician away when he scrambled from her path of his own initiative. She checked and re-checked the communication parameters and watched the image of the Bolse satellite oscillate, its cannon pointing well away from the Vanguard.

Her blood chilled.

She remembered the one factor she had dismissed and tossed away early in the battle, one factor so seemingly insignificant and unlikely. One factor she herself had warned Hellion never to underestimate.

As the Bolse energy readings spiked, her eyes flew wide.

-

* * *

-

_"Ain't that just the most beautiful thing you ever saw?"_

Fox exhaled in relief in response to Falco's awe as the massive blue beam of energy from Bolse struck Venom's surface. He felt a surge of gratified revenge course through his blood and cause him to shudder; the last time the damn cannon fired it destroyed his ship and killed his friend and teammate. Watching it be turned on the army that created it was even more emotionally satisfying than knowing the battle had turned in Lylat's favor. It helped to know that Gage, or at least someone in Dagger, was still alive to operate it.

Another blast hit Venom, trying to take out Project Siren if things were going by the briefing on Dagger's front. Fox didn't know if they succeeded and he didn't care; he was just glad to see the satellite finally switch its target to the Atlas. Even with Henriksen's support allies had continued to fall to the ship's innumerable guns and turrets.

_"This is Admiral McGarret to all LDC and mercenary units. It looks like the Atlas is about to get a swift kick in the ass. Break off any attacks and get away from the Atlas immediately."_

The remaining fighters scattered under the hail of the behemoth's turrets and no sooner had they fallen back to the destroyers and frigates than space lit up in a blue flash. A shimmering ripple fluxed around the Atlas as the monstrous beam burst against it.

_"Direct hit on the Atlas!" _the familiar technician reported._ "Shields down thirty percent!"_

The comm channel erupted in whoops and cheers that only intensified as another beam wounded the Atlas.

_"Shields critical!"_

One last beam burst from Bolse's maw, this one even causing Fox to shout in joy as it collapsed the shields and bore into the Atlas' hellish hull. When the light show and dust had cleared, a gaping, blackened hole scarred nearly the entire rear port side of the Vanguard, its crippled state causing it to loll and drift.

_"This is McGarret! All craft pour whatever you got left into that breach! If that internal construction is like the Vanguard, that's near enough to the central power core that enough firepower should set it off!"_

The reinvigorated pilots flooded back into combat, the capital ships lumbering after. For the first time in the battle, allied fire overwhelmed anything the Venomians put out.

"Stick close to me and prepare smart bombs," Fox ordered. "You heard the admiral; fire any you have left."

The three Arwings cut through the allied and enemy fighters and loosed seven bombs in total into the Atlas' wound. The combined explosion rocked the beast and ignited numerous blue and green bursts as weapon capacitors and energy cells went up. Any other ship would have been scrap by then but the Titan-class ship lived up to its name. The Phalanx and her fleet of destroyers and battleships filled the no-man's-land with torpedoes and energy cannon fire, each one widening the breach and digging deeper into the Atlas' vitals.

_"We've got this bastard on the ropes, Thomas," _Henriksen growled._ "One more salvo will break through the inner chassis."_

_"Hold there," McGarret replied. "I want the Vanguard to put the spear through her heart."_

_ "She's all yours, admiral."_

The Vanguard moved forward with a proud, pained gait, like a wounded warrior who refused to drop his sword. Fox wondered how many of the ship's guns could still be operational and his question was answered when half a dozen of the seventeen fore cannons fired in one final warcry. The bombardment seemed like child's play compared to what came of it; with the power core finally breached, the aft of the Atlas erupted in a string of flares that culminated in the largest explosion Fox had ever seen, a death befitting a ship of its size. The explosion decimated the aft and rippled through to the fore, the Atlas breaking apart under the chain reaction. The final ignition created such a shockwave that the myriad debris created from the battle was flung en masse past the rocked and tossed allied ships. Fox had to pull away to protect his canopy from the errant metal and the INH herself took a few hits, though nothing more serious than nicks and scratches. When he brought his Arwing back around, Fox grinned at all that remained of the Atlas: a charred husk.

He hadn't heard such joyous chatter in his ear since the liberation of Corneria so many years before.

-

* * *

-

"It's impossible!"

Dianus fell to her knees, her tears dropping like hot rain to the much time, so much dedication, all gone before her eyes. The nightmare of watching the Lylatians with their undeserved victory yet again brought back the subdued, sharp pain of Venom's first defeat. Her own heart felt as if ripped from her ribs as she could only watch, helpless, the Atlas fall; her beloved's final wish, his ultimate goal's last reincarnated chance at success….

Gone.

_I failed you. Can you ever forgive me…?_

"Ma'am," a timid technician squeaked. "Our remaining forces continue to fight, but…I'm afraid they're…they're…"

_Overmatched._

_ Defeated._

_ Failed._

"Out," the vixen seethed.

"Ma'am?"

"Get out!" she screamed, more tears jarred loose as she quaked. "All of you, out! Now!"

Footsteps stampeded and faded as the dome emptied, leaving only the mocking ambience of clicks and tones from the control stations. She didn't need to look anymore. The battle was lost; those that continued to fight would die and any that surrendered deserved death. Cornerians would again plant their tainted feet on her planet's pristine sand and the memory of Andross and his vision would be left to the cruel, twisted, erroneous history written by the undeserved victors. The simple thought of it wracked her body with sorrow.

A gentle yet strong hand rested upon her shoulder and another cradled her arm and tenderly helped her up. Even through her tear-blurred eyes and the black mask beside her, Dianus could feel the love and sympathy from the Siren.

"Identify."

"Cora, mistress."

Dianus let the Siren support her and guide her away from the dais. "The universe is cruel, Cora. We are raised to believe in righteousness, that the good and deserving will triumph in the end. But again Venom falls to shadow despite the efforts of her protectors. I shared in my husband's pain when he fell but I only reflected it then. This time it's my own pain, my own failure. Is this how he felt in his final hour?"

"We still have the outpost in the far reaches, mistress. We can rebuild. Your Children will never abandon you."

Dianus stroked the rough contours of the mask and couldn't find the voice to tell Cora that her sisters were gone, Project Siren destroyed. "No, Cora. Venom will rise again as all just causes do, but under the guidance of another. I still have a promise to keep. My beloved's vision may go unfulfilled, but I can still bring him peace. I can kill his murderer. I can be rid of his greatest enemy."

"Are you sure, mistress?"

"This is the only way it can end, Cora. McCloud and I have been destined for this meeting since we first clashed. I want him dead by my hand, and my hand only."

"As you wish, mistress."

Dianus found the strength to stand on her own, though the pain and sorrow of the battle still lingered in her blood like ice. "Ready the Colossus. And contact McCloud with my invitation."

-

* * *

-

Fox's eyes shot open when the high-pitched tone of an incoming call ringed in his ear. He had been resting, sitting back with his eyes closed, just drifting near the INH and letting his muscles relax and his lungs breathe as they hadn't been allowed to do since the first lasers started flying. In the back of his mind all during the battle he had been waiting for Dianus to make good on the promise she sent him, to make her location known. With Henriksen's fighters mopping up and the Vanguard already busy repairing critical systems no one had a need to call on Starfox. He hesitated in answering the call because he knew exactly what it meant.

"Starfox One receiving."

_"McCloud, it's Admiral McGarret. How're you holding up?"_

Fox straightened up. "We'll need a load of repairs and a few tankers of paint but we're all still breathing. Didn't expect to hear from you, admiral; aren't you sort of busy?"

_"Like you wouldn't imagine, but this warrants a few minutes of my time. We received a transmission from the surface intended for you. Coordinates."_

Fox swallowed and looked at Venom as if he'd be able to see her. "I'll take care of it."

"You know I don't like sending you in there alone, but we just can't risk bombardment or assault. She wants you and if she sees us and slips away…"

"I know. It's okay; I want to see her too. Keep track of my vitals via my headset uplink. If I flatline, pound those coordinates to hell."

_"I think I can scare up at least one console on this bloody ship that still works well enough to do that. Be careful down there, and thank you for your efforts today."_

Fox grinned. "I think the Vanguard deserves the credit. I guess it's safe to say congratulations on the victory."

McGarret hesitated, his voice weary and strained now that he didn't need to uphold the commanding strength when addressing the fleet. _"I think one day I'll look back on this battle and be proud. Right now I'm certainly proud of my crew and the Vanguard. But right now the deaths of so many pilots and crewmen…it's something you never get used to, no matter how much of a crotchety old codger you become." _He paused._ "I'm sorry, this isn't what you need to hear right now. We'll be monitoring and waiting for any report. Good luck, McCloud."_

The line cut and Fox's console flickered to life as the Vanguard uploaded the target coordinates.

The comm remained silent; Fox knew his teammates had heard the whole exchange and he could feel their unspoken tension.

Falco finally broke the silence. _"So lemme guess…you'll go it alone from here."_

"Still haven't forgiven me for keeping you out of the Andross battle, eh?"

_"Well, maybe just once I'd like to finish out a war instead of playing solitaire on my ship computer waiting for you to do it." _His tone softened and he added, _"Give her one for Slippy, okay?"_

_ "Fox," _Peppy spoke up. _"You've heard her voice and you know it's been her pulling the strings, but…it's still been so many years since you've actually seen your mother. The last time you saw her she was…well, she was Vixy. You're going to have to see her again. Are you sure you can pull the trigger?"_

The question wasn't new; Fox had toiled over it for many sleepless hours and he always came to the same conclusion. "No. I have no clue what I'll feel and I'm not sure about anything."

_"Listen, Fox. I know we have plenty of reason to hate your father for his part in all this, but he was right about one thing. Something he taught me and I tried to teach you, maybe a little too often sometimes."_

Fox smiled. "Trust my instincts."

_"Right." _The hare chuckled lightly. _"Good to know you paid attention now and then."_

"I will, Peppy. You two take care of the INH 'til I get back, alright?"

Neither teammate responded and the tense air returned. Fox was reminded of the end of the Lylat war, the scolding and anger he endured for shooting ahead of his team to kill Andross. He knew after the fact how stupid it had been, but vengeance drove him, the burning desire to kill his parents' killer. Now faced with another Venomian confrontation, he found himself alone once more and he could sense his teammates' frustration at being helpless again.

But part of him wondered if, given the choice, he really would've wanted them to accompany him this time.

Before he could dwell on it, Fox locked on to the coordinates and boosted toward Venom through the dust, debris, and ghosts of the Titan battle.

-

* * *

-

Turbulence tossed and jolted the Arwing as it dove headlong into the black storm whipping up the region. Fox saw the miles upon miles of noxious storm clouds from orbit and expected the worse, but after a hard stint of intense fighting the tumultuous plummet through Venom's atmosphere played havoc with his stomach. When he finally broke through the storm he was greeted with no cheerier a landscape. The arid desert stretched on in every direction, overshadowed by the black cloud cover, the light a dull, sickly yellow like a summer day swallowed by smoke. Even the frequent lightning bolts couldn't flash bright enough to penetrate the gloom.

The coordinates didn't lie; sprawled in the sand like a series of tumors on the galaxy's ugliest face was a complex of black domes interconnected by covered tunnels. The domes ranged in size, from some no bigger than a gymnasium to a couple near the center that could probably fit the INH if it didn't mind a few scrapes. Not the kind of real estate to build a summer home, but Venom's atmosphere and the remote location made sure it stayed hidden. Fox didn't need a look at the blueprints to know the structure was scan-masked as well.

Fox checked his comm uplink signal and sure enough the storm interfered. The Vanguard would still be able to see his location signal but as far as voice comms went, he was on his own. He didn't mind. The only person he wanted to see at that moment was Dianus.

Fox circled the complex from the air until he found what he considered the "front door," which was comprised of a raised landing platform and a wide tunnel that branched off into three separate domes. What did Dianus want from him? Did she want him to land and ring the doorbell? She'd answer the door and the dome would smell of her ever-popular pot roast and they'd hug and she'd say she was sorry for trying to take over the galaxy and everything would be alright? Maybe she just wanted to admit that she and James were Andross-engineered clones all along like the Sirens and his real parents were safe and sound somewhere else? Or at least still dead? Maybe there was so much more to this than he first thought?

Fox frowned as he stared at the domes, his engine and the harsh winds sighing around him.

Or maybe she just wanted to kill him.

That thought rang true more than any desperate hope he could conjure.

Fox thought about landing and realized he hadn't brought any real weapons aside from the emergency launcher in the rear compartment. What good would an assault rifle be against whatever security she had in those domes anyway? He lowered altitude and tried to get a better look at the tunnel leading away from the landing pad, tried to see if he could make out any life at all in the base.

"What the…"

Fox cocked an eyebrow at the "unknown signal" warning flashing red on his console. He looked around and couldn't see any activity at all from the domes. Pulling back a bit so he could see the whole complex through his canopy, he tapped a few buttons to get the targeting computer to try and isolate the signal. He waited, tense, the rhythmic beeping joining the storm in the eerie, chaotic ambience that somehow still managed to seem perfectly still. Perfectly dead.

The explosion brought a burst of color to the black and ochre.

One of the small domes near the landing pad exploded, making Fox jerk the stick back and curse. In a swift blur of his fingers he cancelled the signal locater and diverted power from engines to guns. He expected fighters or missiles or even some damn bioweapon Andross had kept as a pet and left behind but all he could make out was a…cube? Fox watched as a gray metal cube encased in thick wiring rose out of the dome and hovered lazily toward him. As it oscillated he could see mechanical fixtures jutting out from every angle. The object wasn't too big, only the size of a hefty truck, but Fox kept his distance and kept his main guns pinpointed on it.

_*beep*_

Fox looked down as his confused computer reported another unknown reading. "What the hell now—" His annoyance quickly turned to dread as the monitor lit up like downtown Corneria City after dark. One reading turned to five. Then ten. Twenty. Forty…

Fox realized the sand below was quaking, shifting, as if an earthquake had decided to join the series of natural disturbances. Fear from the unknown assault gripping him, he backed further away from the hovering object, but the desert itself seemed to be rising up to grasp at his Arwing.

No…not the desert…

He squinted through the gloom and watched as something emerged from beneath the sand, something small and metallic. Others began emerging as well, pulled from their burial places by an invisible force. Within a few seconds, the entire dead expanse before the complex became filled with dozens of flat metal squares, armor plating marred and discolored by God knew how long buried and waiting. The metal plates flew upward, one after the other, and interlocked in front of the mysterious cube. A cloud of sand billowed upward as the plates broke free of the desert, obscuring Fox's vision. But even through the storm and his Arwing he could hear the sharp, solid clanks of the metal pieces coming together, a rapid series of clanks like machine gun fire that finally slowed and stopped.

The desert lay bare once more and the upthrust of sand fell back down, revealing its work.

"Dear God…"

The cube had become hidden from sight by the armor plates, but it was those plates that held Fox's startled attention. The plates had come together to form a giant, sand-scarred face, so large it could probably swallow the INH bridge and chew through the rest. In a motion that made every strand of fur on Fox's body stand on end, the huge eyelids opened to dead nothingness, yet he could feel it staring directly at him. Immediately he remembered the animatronic attack vessel Andross had fought him with, though the ape's version projected a holographic self-image of his face, a testament to his vanity and ego more than any practicality. This monstrous face before him seemed more like the Atlas: a brutal, rough piece of tech built for fear and death.

Fox had seen enough. As the face slowly tilted side to side as if growing accustomed to its invisible neck, he pelted it with a few bursts of lasers. The shots bounced off harmlessly, hardly even scorching the metal. He went for the eyes but the lasers just passed through, ineffective unlike the targets had been on Andross' weapon. He flicked his thumb to the smart bomb button, thankful he had restocked after the Atlas fell, and launched one square at the nose.

The bomb never found its mark.

In another volcano of sand, a pair of giant metal hands built of the same plates burst from the desert and caught the bomb in mid-flight. A chill ran up Fox's spine as the face looked at the pulsing orb in its palms and…_grinned_. Subtle, but definitely there. It tossed it away to the side like a piece of litter where it exploded amongst the black clouds. The hands hovered to the sides of the face, the fingers clenching and unclenching on their sand-worn joints.

_"It's you in there."_

Fox blinked as the large mouth opened and formed the words. Did he imagine the voice? Was his mind playing tricks on him?

_"It's you, McCloud."_

The voice crackled in his ear, low, like a whisper. Not coming from the face, but rather through his comms with the face just mouthing the words. Even with the distortion he immediately recognized the voice.

"Dianus."

_"I haven't seen you since the day I died. And now you're behind that glass."_

"And you're behind that mask." Fox could swear the mask creaked and groaned, straining to imitate the facial emotion of its operator, but it could've just been a trick of the weather.

_"I knew you'd come. But I wonder if you came for the reasons I suspect."_

Fox swallowed. He knew he had to try his best to keep emotions out of it. If he let her get to him the way she had tried – and succeeded – to do in the past, she'd win. "This isn't about you as my mother. I'm not here as your son. I'm here to end this war and bring you back. If you surrender now, I—"

Before Fox could react, one of the metal hands shot forth and grabbed his Arwing, the screech of metal on metal grating his ears. He tried to boost out but the hand held firm and pulled him closer to the face. Swallowing panic, he tried the boost again and cut it short as the hull threatened to crack. The face loomed over him and he thought the hand was going to shove him into the mouth.

And it stopped.

The front tip of his Arwing was only a few feet from the large nose and the vacant eyes gazed down at him. The other hand moved toward the canopy and Fox cowered down, readying himself to jump if it tore the glass away or tried to rip apart the Arwing. The fingers descended, blotting out the sad sunlight, and scraped against the hull. Then they moved across the hull again, and again, not causing any significant damage.

Fox blinked as he recognized the motion; the hand was _caressing_ the fighter. It stroked over the top of the Arwing as a parent would stroke the soft fur on their baby's head.

_"I wanted your father to bring you to Venom, but he wouldn't. I wanted you to be my son, me and Andross. But it was too late. By the time we disposed of James and his treachery, you became corrupted by Hare. You became the enemy. And I promised my beloved I'd kill you."_

"Then why don't you just do it?" Fox growled.

The empty eyes widened and narrowed. _"I can't feel you through these cold fingers. I want to see you one last time before I finish it. I want to see what I missed by failing to bring you to your true family."_

The fingers tightened around the canopy and the caress became an assault. Fox jerked the stick back again, trying to pull free of the grasp, but he couldn't budge. His mind raced as a long crack split the glass, and the fingers closed tighter. One last idea popped to his head, something he'd never try normally…but then normally he didn't have giant metal hands threatening to rip apart his Arwing. Ensuring his buckles were secure, he held his breath, steadied his nerves…

…and launched a smart bomb point-blank into the menacing face.

Fox opened his eyes to a world spinning around him and realized he had blacked out for a moment. Glad to be waking up at all, he fought his stick to regain control, and shook his head to clear his addled vision. His cockpit screamed at him, shield warnings flashing red and hull damage no better off. He pulled back to let his shields regenerate and redirected power to his onboard repair systems. On instinct his hand moved to his throttle to pop it into full, not enough to break atmosphere with his low power but enough to get the hell away. But he stopped.

No.

He wouldn't pull back. He couldn't. The anger, humiliation, betrayal, pain…everything his mother had become for him, it all kept him from retreating. The worst part about the past hellish weeks of this war had all come from the knowledge of who pulled the strings, who set the entire thing in motion, who crippled Starfox. He had tried so hard to find himself in the fog of war, to find out who he really was now that he knew who his parents really were. He had tried so hard to keep Starfox strong and safe. All he ever found when he looked inside was doubt.

Maybe being back on Venom put everything in perspective. Maybe the deaths of so many allies at the hands of the Venomians had affected him more than he thought. Maybe the bomb just shook something in his mind back into place.

But however it happened, his throttle didn't move. There was no more doubt.

He was Fox McCloud, commander of Starfox.

He lived his life to the standards of his father's ideals, the noble ideals of a flawed, imperfect man who in the end sought redemption.

He lived his life remembering the love of his mother, Vixy McCloud, before her mind was raped by Andross.

And he fought anyone, anywhere, who threatened Lylat.

With a deep breath, he pulled back to face Dianus.

The giant face had contorted to fit its operator's anger; some of the plates on the left cheek had been jarred loose and fidgeted as they slid back into place. Like the largest black eye in the galaxy, Fox's strike had blackened the plates, but apparently done little real damage. He didn't care. He'd brought down one insane Venomian tyrant and he would do it again.

_"That was stupid, McCloud. You can't damage the Colossus! All you're doing is dragging this out!"_

Fox gritted his teeth and gripped his controls with white knuckles. "Don't any of you psychos ever just shut the hell up and _fight?!_"

He boosted toward the face and rolled out of the way of a swipe from one of the giant hands. All the old babble from Slippy's after-action analysis of Andross' similar weapon ran through his head and he tried to remember the important parts. Dianus' weapon appeared different in that the typically unshielded areas – the eyes and inner hands – had been either armored or left vacant. Fox's mind raced, trying to remember any other weak points.

_"Daughters…give McCloud a warm welcome back to Venom."_

New contacts lit up on the Arwing's display as fighters darted from hidden launch bays amongst the larger domes. He grimaced as he realized they were no simple fodder; the sharp edges and mock-Arwing design reminded him of the fighter that had pursued and shot him after he broke Leon of out of jail. The contact update stopped at eleven but those were eleven tough ships and even tougher pilots, assuming Dianus' "daughters" really did fly them. He broke off and focused on the targets he at least knew how to kill while he tried to think of a plan for taking down the face.

"Go on, throw your Sirens at me! Take a page from Andross' playbook and cower behind the hired help!"

_"I don't need to cower behind them; they give their lives for me willingly. They're more my children than you ever were."_

Fox's head remained clear as he dove headlong into the oncoming fighters and mixed it up with them. He knew he should've been worried with his Arwing still roiling from the smart bomb blast, not to mention the Atlas battle, but the shield alarms and monotone voice warnings were just background noise, nothing even coming close to breaking his focus. He let off a string of lasers at the first sleek silver fighter to fall under his reticule and blew through the explosion left in their path.

The others engaged but stuck close to the Colossus, trying to coax and draw him in with their attack passes and evasive maneuvers. Keeping his throttle maxed, Fox obliged and danced with the fighters, pelting one and taking down its shields whenever he got the chance, then spinning away before any other Siren could get a lock. Three more dropped before the Sirens caught on to his pattern and began whittling down his own waning shields. The storm raged around them, lightning and wind seeming to intensify as if Venom absorbed the fury of the battle. The Colossus glared and took swipes and grabs with its monstrous hands whenever Fox strayed close enough.

_"Just slow him, daughters. He's mine. I gave him life; it's mine to take away."_

Fox blew the wing off a fighter in mid-turn and sent it twirling to a fiery end in the sand. Six more remained but he wasn't sure his suffering Arwing could make it. He had to end the battle at its source; his mind raced as he tried to remember something, anything, from Slippy's report on Andross.

_Magnetism…gravity…something like that…_

"The cube," he thought aloud, dodging the advances of a duo of fighters. Somewhere inside the chassis that emitted Andross' holograph was a conduit that powered the weapon's anti-gravity systems. It used the same power source to manipulate a magnetic field to keep all its pieces following its operator's movements from the control station, wherever that may be. The giant cube that Dianus' metal face hid…the same kind of power conduit must have been housed there. If the cube went down, the metal plates would have no magnetic field holding them together.

Fox fired and another fighter fell, but his Arwing wasn't impressed. Every critical system flashed red on his console and his shields had fully dissipated. Spitting a curse, he broke off from the fighters and pushed everything his engine had left toward the face. Lasers and even bombs wouldn't do anything, he knew, but fortunately the plates only formed a face, not a full head that wrapped all the way around. If he could get behind, he'd have a clear shot.

Fox growled; as the face turned with surprising speed to keep between him and the power source, the simple plan was becoming anything but.

A humorless chuckle echoed in his ear. _"What's the matter, McCloud? Don't want to play anymore? I was wondering when you'd catch on. You see that I learned from my husband's mistakes. No frills, no sacrificing of armor for weapons, no possible way to breach the armor. You can keep trying to zoom around but you're just a gnat itching to get crushed."_

Fox shoved the stick down and practically felt the wind from the giant metal fist as it whooshed through the air that held him a microsecond before. His teeth gritting so hard his gums ached, he pushed his engine more and desperately tried to get a lock on the cube. Every time it looked like he'd be able to loop around the face and get a shot off, those damn empty eyes would turn to meet and mock him.

_She can't hold._

The Arwing quaked under the strain of its weight.

_ You're in over your head this time._

The storm howled louder, yearning to swallow him.

_ It's your nightmare all over again; you're gonna die on Venom._

Fox saw red, but more than just the pulsing alarms bathing his cockpit in the bloody color. He didn't even notice immediately that his console had sparked and died, his targeting systems along with it. He fired at whatever passed in front of him, be it the face or the Sirens, until he squeezed the trigger and nothing happened. The stick bucked in his hand as he fought to keep the Arwing airborne, but he was losing. Air became thin with the failing of life support and when he pulled back to try one more desperate pass with his bombs, his reflexes had lost it; he didn't see the gargantuan hand coming until it was too late.

He only had time to blink before the blow landed and all went black.

-

Fox's entire body throbbed in unison. The pain let him know he was alive. He could still hear the wind, muffled and dull, but not his engines. He felt no movement tossing him around or the familiar, massage-like vibration of his seat when his Arwing took flight. Even the obnoxious voice and nagging alarms had given up. With a surge of effort, Fox opened his eyes and felt a wave of sadness, a shiver as if he was sealed in a coffin, not so much because of the metal encasing him but because his Arwing lay still and dead, battered and beaten and plunged into death.

"We did all right today," he whispered, even that slight movement causing his head to ache. "We did all right." He ran his hand across the destroyed instrument panel. "I'll be back for you."

Fox fidgeted in the crumpled cockpit, checking to make sure nothing vital had been severed or impaled or crushed. Aside from a bleeding gash on his forehead and an agonizing bruise on his thigh, all his limbs checked out. His vision rebelled every now and then and he had to blink back into focus, but a concussion was the least of his concerns at that moment. He knew what awaited him past his sand-blown, cracked canopy, and he wondered why he wasn't dead yet. Why hadn't Dianus pounded the Arwing into dust? Was she still so fixated on seeing him one last time?

Fox chuckled sardonically despite the humorless moment as he wiped blood from his eyes. "Well then…let's give her one last look."

The fox squirmed until he could pull his legs up and over his console. He braced his left foot against the panel and slammed his right boot against the canopy, the impact sending waves of aching pan through his muscles. He did it again and again, the resilient glass cracking a little more each time. Finally, thanks to the hardest kick the pilot could muster, the canopy flew open and gave way to the chaotic storm. Stinging sand whipped around Fox as he stood on his seat and gripped the edges of the cockpit for support. He saw his poor, beaten Arwing lopsided in the sand, nearly every inch of hull burned, crumpled, or mangled, one wing completely missing and the other twisted out of shape.

The wind slowed Fox but did not stop him. He clambered forward over his instrument panel and managed to get his feet onto the scarred metal of the Arwing's nose. Slowly he loosened his grip and began to stand, taking each second on its own merit to make sure he could keep his balance. At last his back straightened and his chin rose and only then did he look out over the Venomian desert. Through the storm of sand he saw the Colossus a couple hundred yards away, though with its size it seemed spitting distance. It gazed down at him with its empty eyes, the two remaining Siren fighters circling it like a halo.

The gloom all around them was lit by the fires of the downed fighters, which lay crashed and burning like numerous funeral pyres dotting the desert before the dome complex. Fox looked around at them and at the burn marks his lasers and bomb had done to the Colossus and he smiled. He felt fire in his veins that refused to die along with his Arwing.

His palms open, he raised his arms to his sides and met the Colossus' eyes with his own piercing glare. The thunder and howling fury of the storm swept up his voice but could not come close to drowning it.

"Is that all you have to throw at me?! Is that all you've got!? You think that's all it takes to stop a McCloud!?"

The Colossus' features shifted with a groan of metal friction. Fox couldn't be sure what reaction the face was trying to emulate but it didn't matter once one of the giant hands clenched into a fist. His breath caught in his throat; there was nothing left for him to do. Faced with his own death, he didn't move or even flinch away from his stance atop his Arwing.

The fist rose high above.

He closed his eyes and took one last breath, futilely wishing it was sweet Cornerian country air rather than Venomian filth. His imagination had to suffice.

The whoosh of the fist filled his ears but he felt nothing when it stopped except for a strong gust of wind, stronger than the storm had yet offered, pushing at his back. He opened his eyes just as a very familiar sound joined the cacophony: the burning hot whine of Arwing cannons. An Arwing streaked across the sky behind the Colossus and pelted the hidden cube with a volley of lasers before pitching away, the Sirens in hot pursuit. The face let out a grinding squeal that Fox supposed passed for a grunt of frustration and turned to engage the Arwing before it could get another shot at its weakness.

"Peppy!" Fox cried. Who else would dive through a Venomian storm to get one last crack at Dianus? He slapped his headset to see if it still worked and a burst of static at least showed it functioned. He couldn't raise a signal but with an electrical storm that bad, he wasn't surprised. A long breath shook through his body. Though he had told his team to stay put, it was hard to be mad at the interruption. He could save the ass-chewing for a time when he wasn't relieved to still be breathing.

The Arwing swooped and weaved, expertly dancing with the Sirens and taking them down one after the other. Dianus gave Peppy the same run-around she had given Fox, always staying between him and the cube. Fox felt helpless on the ground and kept taking a step to hop off the Arwing and move forward, as if the blaster in his holster could actually do anything.

"Damn it all," he grunted through clenched teeth, but the frustration lifted as an idea sprung into his head. He dove back into his cockpit and pulled at the seat release, fighting against the mangled lever. Finally, he pulled his blaster loose and just shot it off with a strange pang of guilt at assaulting his own treasured fighter. With a gentle pat of apology on the control panel, he pulled the seatback free and heaved it out onto the sand.

"We may be down, ol' girl," he strained, yanking something out of his storage cache, "but we're never out."

The heavy launcher came free of its moorings with a sudden start and nearly sent Fox tumbling off his Arwing. He hopped off on his own and inspected the launcher tube for any damage from the cache. The impact-resistant case seemed to have lived up to its name, so he pulled the firing pin off its safety, flipped up the holosights, and powered it up. The weapon hummed to life, all its critical indicator lights turning green.

"Let's get her, Peppy," he muttered. He placed the brace over his shoulder, gripped the foregrip with his left hand, and let his right hand rest atop the tube to hold it steady.

Peppy still futilely tried to boost around the face and had no better luck than his captain. But his distraction let Fox sprint across the harsh Venomian landscape, or at least slog as fast as he could over the deep sand. Dianus must have caught a glance of him at one point, for the furious metal face glared at him for an instant and struck at him with one of the metal hands. Fox saw the gigantic fist descending and dove out of its way just as it impacted, sand washing over him. He sputtered and struggled to his feet, ready to dodge again, but the face had been forced back to the more threatening enemy buzzing around it.

Fox gasped and wheezed the gritty, noxious air by the time he reached a decent firing distance to the Colossus. Trying to keep his breathing even, he kept walking forward with the launcher shouldered and his eye at the sight, but with Peppy fighting directly over him the face still stood in the way.

"Come on, Peppy," he uttered to himself. "Move! Get her to turn, come on!"

After one more volley of lasers, the Arwing broke past the face and it turned to keep up with him. Fox grinned at the large magnetic cube hovering behind the nose, and put his sights directly on it. The launcher chirped when a lock had been established and Fox pulled the trigger. Like a bolt of lightning to put all others around him to shame, a green burst of energy erupted from the launcher and exploded against the cube, causing the entire face to shudder. The cube sparked and faltered but remained afloat.

"Shit!" Fox ejected the spent energy capacitor and waited while the second in the launcher's loadout slid into place and charged. He sighted again but swallowed and backpedaled when he saw that the very angry face now looked square at him.

"Peppy!"

The hand went up and prepared to strike, but Peppy shot in and pounded it with a bombardment of lasers. With the gravity field faltering, the hand's plates fell away and lingered in mid-air before grudgingly returning to place. Again the Arwing darted in and strafed the hands, keeping them helpless in their attempts to squash Fox like a desert scorpion beneath a boulder.

"Come on, come on." Fox kept the sight to his eye, feeling each second press on his nerves. Peppy couldn't keep that up forever; a strike would get through eventually. The Arwing couldn't even dart around to finish her off, or Dianus would have all the time she needed to kill the scurrying pilot. "Come on, give me something to shoot…something…something…"

Fox only had two shots left and then was back to being a helpless fleck under the Colossus. A risky idea came to mind, but if that situation didn't call for a risk, he didn't know what would. Ignoring the launcher's lock-on protesting the lack of a target, he let his second shoot loose at the right cheek and wasted no time loading and charging the third shot. By the time the blast hit, he already had his eye to the sight again. Plates around the impact area rumbled and fell away but, like the hands, the weakened gravity field began pulling them back before long.

That split second was all Fox needed.

The launcher's tone signaled a lock on the cube through the cheek gap and Fox fired, uttering a desperate prayer to speed the shot on its way. The green energy barely slipped through the gap as the plates reassembled and the sound of a deep explosion told Fox that his shot had found its mark. The face turned into a mask of horror as the cube exploded in a flaming cloud of blue and green energy. The horrible face crumbled away, the plates showering back down the desert in a deadly torrent that made Fox plod away as quickly as he could.

"Yes!" Fox turned back in time to enjoy the cube's fiery evaporation and the last of the plates thud into the sand. He slammed the launcher down like a football in the endzone and pumped his fist into his palm, relief at the victory coursing through him and overtaking the pain. He fell to his hands and knees and laughed on the meager air he had left in his exhausted lungs.

After a few moments to catch his breath, he stood with a groan of exertion and waved at Peppy, the Arwing never looking so beautiful as at that moment. He fiddled with his headset again and tried to gain a signal. "Peppy? Hey, you hear me? Set 'em up and knock 'em down, eh? Just like old—"

Fox's face fell.

The Arwing descended like a storm cloud of its own, black as night. With the battle and the gloomy tempest shadowing it before, Fox hadn't seen it well enough to peg it as the phantom Arwing. It lowered its altitude and kept its distance above, its engine seeming more silent than a normal Arwing. Other than that and the pitch black paint and tinted canopy, it looked exactly like Fox's own craft, at least before it was manhandled by Dianus.

"You…" Fox said, unsure of whether the ship could even hear him through his headset. If it did, the pilot remained silent. "What are you?"

Nothing.

Though it could have been a trick of the storm and his own sore eyes, the Arwing seemed to shimmer for a moment as if made of water.

Fox didn't know what to think, even though the ship had saved his life. He felt the pilot looking at him and couldn't decide whether to talk again or brace for fire from the guns. Watching the Arwing fight the Sirens and Dianus was like looking at his own old training vids; the turns, the loops, the burst speed…everything he learned from his father. But his father was dead. Killed by the Venomian deserts, where nothing but Dianus' war machine thrived. Nothing could last more than four or five hours breathing the air. And if he was James, why didn't he show himself? Why didn't he come back to his family, his team?

Maybe it wasn't James looking for vengeance. Maybe the simplest answer, as always, wasn't the truth.

"Whoever you are…whatever you are…this is the second time you've helped me. When are you going to tell me what you want? When does it end? Is this what you wanted, to finish Dianus? If so then land, let me see who you are."

Nothing.

Fox sighed, at a loss. He squinted at the Arwing as if that would help him see through the tinted canopy and uttered the word before he even realized it.

"Dad?"

With a sudden cry of its engines heating up, the Arwing oscillated toward the sky and boosted into the storm, leaving a cloud of sand in its wake, and Fox alone with the wind and fire.

-

Fox trekked toward the sand with his jacket pulled over his head for protection against the harsh sand-laden storm. One of the downed Siren fighters had crashed into a dome near the front landing pad, caving in part of the structure. Fox liked that entrance better than traipsing through the front door so he started toward it, picking his way through parts of fighters, fallen metal plates, and bits of the magnetic field core. The phantom Arwing held his thoughts for most of the journey but within fifteen minutes, when he looked up and found himself near the dome, he forced it out of his mind and focused on the task at hand.

_What exactly is the task at hand?_

He didn't have an answer. Ever since he had cut through the atmosphere he had been winging it, letting himself react to Dianus' advances. He had to see her before he would know what he had to do.

With his muscles screaming for mercy, Fox pulled himself onto the solid dome base and clambered up to the gap the fighter had created when it plowed through the reinforced exterior. He peeked inside and saw what looked like a control room, with terminals and large holoscreens ringing the outer walls and a dais for the commander in the center. The fighter had redecorated it pretty drastically, having obliterated the commander's chair and most of the terminals on one side. Mindful to keep away from the smoldering wreckage, he eased himself over the side and dropped down.

He groaned through gritted teeth as his shins fielded the blow and nearly gave out on him, but he grabbed an inactive console for support and kept his balance. At once, his breath stopped at a sound other than wind or crackling fire: footsteps, soft yet unmistakable, coming from behind. Fox pulled his handgun from its holster, whipped around, and fired at a figure near the black metal door.

The laser lanced by the Siren's face and seared the door but the black-clad vixen didn't fire back, didn't even flinch. Fox thought himself lucky for getting a second shot off but as his finger tightened around the trigger he stopped, the sound of her voice staying his hand.

"The mistress has called for you, Mister McCloud."

Fox blinked. "Yeah? How about I put a few air holes in that mask before I go see the 'mistress?'"

"Do what you will, so long as it does not keep the mistress waiting."

Fox would have laughed had the guard not been so deadpan serious. "Where is she?"

"Follow me."

Fox lowered his gun but kept it in a tight grip.

The door led to a long covered pathway, which in turn gave way to a large main hall. Fox gazed around, reminded of an old cathedral, but instead of stained glass windows, normal glass showed the gloom of the Venomian desert all around. As he began to wonder who the hell would want to see, much less show off, the Venomian wastelands, their footsteps became muffled on deep red carpet stretching the length of the hall, its color more poignant thanks to the black metal surroundings, like a blood vein coursing through rotten flesh.

"Your mistress certainly outdid herself with this place," Fox uttered.

"She loved her children enough to build this home for us."

"Home? Seems more like a fortress."

"What better place to worship Venom?" She raised her palms to her sides. "My sisters and I found our purpose here."

Fox looked around at the gesture and his heart skipped a beat at the sight of more Sirens, nearly invisible standing guard in the shadows of the large hall. He instinctively started to raise his gun again but they seemed no more harmful than the one leading him. Still, he kept a wary eye darting back and forth as he continued deeper into the complex.

"Just this way, Mister McCloud."

The Siren removed her glove and placed her hand on a scanner beside large double doors at the end of the red carpet. She stepped aside and gestured for him to enter. "Go ahead, sir."

His heart pounding at the anticipation of the meeting, Fox shoved the doors open and stepped into a short passageway that opened up into a dome far larger than the control room he had so ungracefully stumbled into. The dome was completely without reinforcement, the transparent glass giving him more of a view than he ever wanted of the Venomian desert and the violent storm tossing it around. His Siren escort joined a dozen other Sirens standing guard around the edges of the dome. The gloomy light fell upon a wide glass desk in the middle of the dome, alone without the noise or clutter of any other tactical equipment. Even though the dreary landscape was anything but soothing, he could feel the peace inside the room and immediately understood its purpose.

"You come here to relax, don't you?"

Fox couldn't see Dianus in the low light but he knew it was her figure sitting in the chair. His heart stuttered when her voice came; though he knew what to expect, nothing could prepare him for hearing his mother's voice first-hand and being in the same room.

"I always found Venom relaxing. No distractions, nothing superfluous. Just emptiness and thoughts. Nature at its core."

Fox stepped forward. "That's what Andross gave you? Emptiness?"

"Clarity, McCloud. A clearer view of Lylat."

He stopped just before her desk, his eyes adjusting to the light, and her features began to come into focus. "Lean forward. Let me see you."

Dianus hesitated, but finally placed her elbows on the desk and leaned forward, resting her muzzle on her hands. "You wish to see me as much as I wanted to see you then?"

Fox swallowed a wave of sadness upon looking over her face again. For so many years, her face had been burned into his mind in the form of the last time he saw her, smiling at him and waving goodbye as she ducked into her car. Age had added little; he still saw that face behind the emotionless expression and cruel eyes.

"It's true then," he said, holstering his pistol. "You don't care for me at all. There's nothing of you left in there. Andross took everything."

Dianus had been gazing at him the entire time with unblinking eyes; she looked as if she wanted to reach out and touch him, as if to make sure he was real, but she never moved a finger. "I remember you as my son, but I feel you as my enemy. As beloved Andross' enemy."

Fox couldn't help it; a tear broke free and fell from his cheek. All the preparation in the world couldn't have stopped it. But it was a tear not for her words, but for the memories her face brought back to life, back in such vivid detail that they may as well have been happening all over again. He tried to speak on a stuck throat and finally managed, "There's something I've been wanting to tell you to your face."

She grinned without humor, waiting for his anger. "Go ahead, McCloud. What harsh reprimands does Lylat's hero have for Venom today?"

Fox swallowed and said in a near whisper, "I didn't like the purple. I liked the blue."

Dianus' brow furrowed.

"The night before you…died," he continued, finding the right words. "You went out with dad for a nice dinner. I think I know what you were celebrating now. I was lying on your bed as you were getting ready, bored, bouncing that striped rubber ball against the wall, and you held up those two dresses and asked me which one I liked better. I didn't care; I just wanted you two to go so I could have the place to myself and turn the vidscreen up to full. I glanced back and just said the first color I saw. But I never liked that purple dress, I always liked the blue one."

Dianus remained silent, the light shifting on her purple gown as she sat back.

"The next morning, you just had time for a peck on the cheek before I had to go to school and you had to go for work, or whatever you did to fake your death. After you died, after the funeral and everything, for a long time all I could think of was that goddamn dress, how the last thing I told you was a lie. How I couldn't take three damn seconds and give you some attention, and how I'd never have that chance again. My mother was gone forever, and her selfish brat kid couldn't even tell her which dress she looked great in. But now I can tell you. I'm sorry. You look great in blue. You always did, and dad thought so too. I'm sorry."

The cruelty flickered away from Dianus' eyes for a brief moment, replaced with a flabbergasted awkwardness, but her face hardened soon enough. "Have you gone insane, McCloud? You've walked into your own death sentence and that's all you have to say, some relic from a past I don't care for and couldn't remember if I tried?"

"No? What color is the dress you're wearing now? What color would I find the most if I asked your Sirens to show me your closet? That opinion was the last memory you had of me also."

Dianus stood with a start, her face contorted in anger. "You killed my beloved! You ruined his vision, you ruined mine, you ruined my last defense and left me helpless for the Cornerians, and now you come in here and think I want to do anything but rip you limb from limb?!"

"I wasn't sure until I walked in here. Until I saw you in that dress." Fox didn't wipe his eyes; he let his eyes dry on their own. "Now I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I finally realized why, ever since this whole mess started, everyone's always called you Dianus. No one ever called you Vixy, even though we knew that's your real name. Always Dianus this, Dianus that, the war against Dianus."

The vixen forced a laugh. "Because that's not my name anymore. I've evolved into something better, something that only belongs to Venom. Dianus."

"No." Fox leaned over the table to meet her eyes. "Because Vixy was the name of the woman who died in that car bomb, the person we only had good memories of. Andross brainwashed you into his slave. Any hatred we ever felt was toward Dianus, the…the…_disease _planted by Andross that corrupted you and turned you into this."

Dianus trembled with rage. "McCloud, you—"

"Why don't you call me by _my_ name?"

"Quiet!" She took a deep breath through her nose but it did little to calm her. "You have no idea what a dangerous game you're playing, McCloud. I may have lost this war, but I can still ensure you die here on Venom. A snap of my fingers and my Sirens will shoot you dead before you can blink."

Fox flicked his eyes left and right at the Sirens, then focused back on Dianus. "You say you just wanted one last look at me before killing me. You've seen me. What's stopping you?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You're awfully eager. I never thought you to be suicidal."

"You had every opportunity in the world to kill me. You took out the Great Fox when I wasn't in it. You had your Siren lapdog spare me when she killed Leon. Even just today, you ordered your own men to back off me, hindering your fleet in the battle you've waited years to fight. You think I didn't notice that? All just to see me? Your Siren didn't even defend herself when I fired at her. That's quite a restriction for the daughters you love more than me."

"You seem very confident in your deductions, McCloud. I'd like to see how confident you are with a gun to your head."

Fox pursed his lips and kept their eyes locked, his tone softening a bit. "It's over, Dianus. Whatever you do to me, the LDC will be waiting. Surrender yourself before it's too late."

Dianus laughed, the sound echoing through the dome. "I came to this dome to die, McCloud. If not from you, then from LDC bombers. If not from bombers, then by my own hand before they can take me. My life belongs to Venom. Do you hear me, McCloud? Corneria will _not_ have me alive to parade before their corrupt system. Either way, neither of us are leaving this dome. Either I kill you first, then myself. Or you kill me, but my Sirens have orders to kill you if I fall."

"Following Andross' footsteps to the end? If you go down, you're taking me with you?"

"I'm fulfilling my husband's last wish; to see you dead by Venomian hands. The choice is yours, McCloud."

Fox lost track of how long he stared her in the eye, remembering more than Dianus wanted him to. No matter what contentious way she glared at him, she couldn't fully mask Vixy's eyes behind Dianus. They were the first things he saw when he was born, the first things he looked for when he needed comfort and love as a child. And they were always there waiting for him.

He pulled his pistol from its holster once more.

Without another moment's hesitation, he slapped it onto the glass desk and slid it across the smooth surface to rest before Dianus.

"The choice is yours," he stated firmly. "I'm going to turn and walk away, back to my Arwing to activate its distress beacon. You do what you have to do. But I lived through Vixy McCloud's death once, and I'm not doing it again, no matter how small a fragment is locked away in there." He paused. "I'm sorry I didn't pay attention that night. I didn't mean it. I hope since then, I've made you proud in some way. Goodbye."

He tore himself away from her eyes with a pang of physical pain in his chest and walked toward the door, his deliberate footsteps padding on the carpet. Behind him he heard Dianus rise angrily and grab the gun from the desk.

"You force me to shoot you in the back, then?! Any way you want it, as long as you're dead!"

Fox tightened his shoulders but forced himself to keep walking.

"You're not leaving this dome, McCloud! Is this how you want to die? Shot in the back?!"

He was only three steps from the threshold, nearly quivering in anxiety from the shot.

"Fox…"

A single shot cracked and he stopped dead in his tracks, a quick breath of surprise sucked into his throat.

A heavy thud hit the carpet in the center of the dome.

Fox closed his eyes and forced himself not to look; he knew in the peace of death, she would look far more like Vixy than Dianus, and he didn't want to see her covered in blood. He started walking again and his tension released, even though she had promised her Sirens would kill him if she fell. Somehow, he didn't fear that final threat.

And the Sirens only watched, guns stowed, as Fox walked back into the tumultuous desert toward his Arwing.

-

**_-Chapter 24 Coming Soon-_**


	31. Lylat's Stand: Fara

[Author's Note: This is the final chapter of the Lylat's Stand group, and just like the last two, it takes place during roughly the same timespan. There also references to a few instances throughout the story, so hopefully the time gaps haven't faded too many memories. Thanks for reading everyone and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 24  
Lylat's Stand - Part Three: Fara  
The Defective One  
_LDC Vanguard, Explosive Containment Unit C3  
1304 hours local_

-

Fara nestled closer to Gage's deep-white chest and smiled when he kissed the top of her head. The claustrophobic explosive containment cell had always been so cold, having him there was like basking in the summer sun. For the past hour, she could almost forget her own death sentence with the nanites crawling around inside her.

"You know," Gage said, his throat vibrating beside her ear. He glanced down at the navy-issue blankets beneath and draped over them, then at their carelessly-tossed clothes. "I brought these blankets to keep you warm. I didn't think you'd want me to jump in with you."

"You're not sorry we went ahead with it, are you?"

"No, no." He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her tighter. "No sense holding off for a special occasion."

Fara knew what he meant. He had told her about his part in the upcoming battle against the Atlas, not to mention the Vanguard's own danger. She tried to argue but before she could, he muffled her with a long kiss and any emotions she felt at the news were driven into just making the most of their last moments together before he had to leave. Before either of them could think or even care to think, they were tangled in the blankets on the floor and the chill of the containment cell was washed away.

Fara forced her smile to strengthen and tried not to let his words hang in the air for too long. "You're a brave guy, you know. The doctors don't know everything about my nanites and if they can…transfer. You'll take any risk for a good time, eh?"

Gage laughed. "Well if we just discovered a new STD, I'll be nice and let them name it after you."

"Thanks a ton. Who says chivalry is dead?" Fara ran her finger up his abdomen and ribs. "I'll tell you one thing: I'm glad you can separate business and pleasure."

"How do you figure?"

"Isn't that how Dagger likes to operate? Quick in, quick out, with as little excitement as possible?" Her finger ended at his chin and flicked off the tip. "That's definitely not my first-hand experience with you."

"Well, we can hold our own when things get intense." He smiled back. "Besides, I was ranked first in my Fort Fenris platoon on endurance tests."

"I don't doubt. Personally, I think you're selling yourself a little short being affiliated with a 'dagger.' You rank at least a broadsword."

"You've been working on these, haven't you? Must be boring in here."

The vixen skirted up on the blanket so they were eye-to-eye and kissed him on the muzzle. "Not at all. I'm just that inspired."

Gage returned the kiss and reluctantly pulled away. "You have any idea where my watch is in this mess? Or my pants?"

"Like I'm gonna help you get dressed."

Fara couldn't hold on to the carefree moments any longer; her face fell to worry as Gage scrounged around their heads. "Is it time already?"

He rolled onto his back and held the watch up with a sigh. "Looks like it. Can't exactly call in sick either."

"I can't convince you not to go." She meant it as a question but the statement sounded truer.

Gage planted one more kiss on her forehead then rolled out from under the blankets and began to gather his clothes. "I took a risk coming back here for a little more time with you. We agreed when I walked in; I have to go. No discussion about it. This is what I do."

"I know, I know. I remember what you said about choices, about how being scared is a choice, and how trusting you is a choice. I may not have many choices being stuck in this cell, but I'm on top of those. I trust you'll come back." She paused and traced her finger in thought along the blanket rumples. "The Bolse cannon…you said it'll destroy Project Siren, right?"

"That's the plan."

She smoothed a series of fabric dunes with her palm. "So…I may never find out everything about myself. What I did in the past, what I did to make Dianus tag me as defective: it'll all go down with the facility."

Gage glanced at her as he buckled his belt. "Isn't that for the best? That's not who you are now. Let it burn on that god-forsaken planet."

Fara knew he was right, but the words felt hollow. Every time she remembered something new about her past she wished she could forget it. So why did she want to know more? What could she possibly get from it? She thought about bringing it up but it felt stupid to talk about something so trivial when Gage was preparing for war. She didn't want to spend their last few moments steeped in troubled pasts.

Instead, she stood, not caring to cover herself, and pressed against him from behind, her hands gripping his shoulders. "I wish I could come with you. You take care of yourself, got it? I don't want to hear one of those BS 'I will' brush-offs. I know you have to do your job, but…be careful."

He turned in her arms and took her hands so they were cupped in his, and squeezed with reassuring strength. "I always do what I say I'll do. I'll get to that Bolse control room. I'll survive. The Vanguard will survive. And I'll get the information on the nanite cure if I have to blow through every Venomian in the galaxy to do it. All I need you to do is trust me and hold on."

Fara stood on her toes and pecked him on the muzzle before settling against his chest. "Give Project Siren hell for me, okay? You're right; this is all I need. Dianus can keep the past."

"That's what I like to hear."

"Just do one thing for me." Her hand slid down his abdomen, over his thigh, to the holster that he only half-secured before she had interrupted him. "Take my SEC-29 from the armory where they're keeping it. If I can't be with you, I want something of mine to be there. I want it to keep you safe."

Gage chuckled. "You want an old piece of crap Venomian pistol from the Lylat War to keep me safe."

"Piece of crap, huh? What are you saying, that your skill as a soldier is all based on your gear? That the Sirens hopelessly outclass you because they can kick your ass with inferior gear?"

The fox pursed his lips and cocked an eyebrow. After a moment, he sighed through his nose and muttered, "That's not even fair, playing that card. You fight dirty."

"Well, that's what you get when you insult a girl's pistol. Besides, it's not just any SEC-29. Just before we retook the Vanguard, I carved a little phoenix in the frame. Y'know, like that name you and Fox gave me. I really liked the name and I wanted to…distance myself from the other Sirens when I put on that uniform. It was a small change, but it was enough."

Gage smiled. "In that case, consider it my new sidearm. At least until I actually need to kill an enemy, then maybe I can throw it at—"

"Oh!"

Fara playfully punched him in the stomach and wound up for another one, but he pulled her close into a long kiss. Her eyes closed and she locked her fingers around the back of his head, never wanting to let go. She knew he wanted to stay as much as her but she didn't want to make the inevitable separation more painful for him either; when his lips retreated, extinguishing the fire that coursed between them, she let her fingers slide apart.

"I'll keep it close," he whispered, not a hint of teasing or frivolity in his voice. "I love you."

"I love you."

Gage slipped his thumb and forefinger between her breasts and lifted his dogtags, the silver chain tinkling around her neck. He attempted a grin. "Military tags, guns…we give the best gifts. A regular white picket fence couple."

"A white picket fence wouldn't be so bad someday. I've never really had a real home. Never had much of anything; all my memories are just…"

Gage tucked a finger under her chin and raised her eyes to meet his. "Don't think about things like that. This is all we need, remember? Just us."

Fara nodded.

"Try to get a little sleep before all the noise starts up. You know, like you were supposed to do when I brought the blankets in the first place."

"I'll try." She caressed his face one last time and tried to remember what his eyes looked like at that moment. "I'll be waiting when you get back. Don't forget the gun."

"I won't. But I need to ask something from you too."

"What?"

A grin crept onto his muzzle. "I need my shirt."

Fara couldn't help returning with a smile of her own. "And cover that up? You're gonna have to fight me for it."

-

* * *

-

I only needed guidance.

I don't know what went wrong. Why do they keep asking me?

The Mistress will be down soon, they say. She will be very unhappy.

I know the Mistress will be unhappy. I can feel sweat soaking my suit and I wonder what the sensation means. I feel a pit in my stomach. My heart beats faster. When I heard the Mistress was coming down, I wanted to run away. What does this mean? Why do I feel this way? Am I broken?

Maybe the Mistress will know how to fix me.

But what would she say about the Assignment?

The sweat again. I'm leaking and my heart is not working right. Too fast.

What went wrong, my sister asks again.

I don't know.

My heart does not slow. I find no comfort in my Home beneath the sands of Venom as I always had. Surrounded by my sisters. Surrounded by our Birth Cradles. I don't like this new feeling.

I say so. I don't like this new feeling, I say to my sisters.

What feeling? they ask.

I can't give words to it. They stare at me and I stay quiet. If I say anymore they might know I'm broken. I can hide in the black and mask of the Chosen Children.

The lift descends and echoes through the dome. My sisters whisper and cower back under the immediate weight of her divine presence. The Mistress has arrived.

She and her four guards walk through the center, past the Great Pillar, toward me and my sisters. The lowly Venomians working on the Great Pillar's internal structure pause in reverence before returning to work. Invincible, the Mistress claimed the Great Pillar would be. Like the titanic arm of a god, shielding our Home from those who would do it harm. Lowly Venomians are not worthy to clamber upon its scaffoldings. No matter; the Mistress has ordered their deaths when their usefulness is complete.

She draws closer. I watch her stride, her purple gown flowing like the sacred storm clouds of Venom, and I nearly weep. How could one as low as I shame herself so much as to annoy the Mistress? I am broken, and it displeases the Mistress. I desire death.

I stand still and bow my head.

I want to fall to my knees and beg her cleansing forgiveness, but that would displease her more.

Show me, she orders my sisters. Her voice embodies awe and power.

One of them holds a data recorder screen before her and she watches. Her eyes remain as steel. I know what she watches and my heart quickens. I feel a storm in my middle, raging behind the flesh. If I vomit, do the bad parts come out? Will I be fixed? I don't dare think to take my mask off before the Mistress. So I hope I do not vomit.

The Mistress waves the screen away and looks at me. It was the first time her glorious gaze ever fell upon me and I freeze. The mysterious feeling intensifies. Could this feeling be beneficial, if the Mistress herself causes it to flare? How could anything from the Mistress be bad? Perhaps the pain is her gift.

She steps toward me and her eyes look my body up and down. I am unworthy to look into her eyes, but I cannot pull myself away. I hope she cannot see through my mask.

She smiles!

But I feel no comfort from the smile.

It is cold, like my Home now feels.

It makes the feeling worse.

She is afraid, the Mistress says. Subject Fara feels fear.

The Mistress seems amused. How can she be amused that I am tainted by fear, the most disgusting of all sins. This bad feeling? Fear? Why do I fear the Mistress if she is benevolent?

What happened, she asks me.

I can barely speak.

I am so sorry, Mistress, I say. I am sick, I say. I could not do what you asked of me because something inside me told me not to.

You listen to yourself over me? she demands.

Never, Mistress. I believed you were speaking through me and guiding me. The feelings were different. I do not know them. Please help me, Mistress. Please forgive me.

You speak of feelings?

I beg your help, Mistress.

The Mistress looks at me for a long time. I can feel her steel eyes digging through my head. She asks, What did you feel on your Assignment?

I could not lie. I could never lie. I say, I did not want to kill anymore. Am I broken?

She smiles again, but not as cold. She places a hand on my shoulder and I feel her power warming me.

You are defective, she says. I can't have defective daughters. You must be fixed.

She raises her hand and the First Sister steps forward. Siren Prime, so loved by the Mistress that she does not wear a mask and her suit is crimson rather than black to signify the blood that created the Sirens. We were all made in her image. The feeling grows inside as the First Sister approaches me.

Take her to the Table, the Mistress orders. Ensure she is telling us all she knows. Defective daughters can be quite naughty and hide things from their mother.

I back away and my skin chills.

Please, Mistress. I would never hide anything from you.

I could already feel the Table's unspeakable pain and the feeling grows. Fear, she had accused of me. Yes, fear.

The Mistress seems not to hear me. She says to the First Sister, When you are satisfied of the truth, secure her in her Cradle. We can fix her in stasis.

I must be fixed? Because I feel?

I am not defective, Mistress. Please don't put my back. I don't want to be cold and asleep anymore.

You want? Since when do my daughters want for themselves rather than their Mistress?

The First Sister grabbed me and I dared not fight. I felt weak but I found myself struggling.

I fear the Cradle more than the Table. I could not go back into the freezing nothingness.

Please, Mistress!

But she turns away.

And I struggle. My sisters watch me, uncaring.

I imagine the cold filling me again and I gasp for air as the First Sister drags me away.

I cannot breathe.

The ice chokes me.

And before long the new, terrible feeling is lost to pain.

-

* * *

-

A voice pulled Fara up from the darkness.

Urgent voices collided with each other and replaced the emptiness. She tried to move after what seemed like years of atrophy in the Cradle and found that her limbs actually responded, only to be clamped down by an unseen force. She tried to blink to clear her mind's eye but realized that the blurry mess before her was actually her sight, her left eyelid held open by oppressing fingers.

"Fara, can you hear me? Can you hear me? Pulse?"

"One-sixty, sir, steadily decreasing. Blood pressure stabilizing."

"Cancel the lockdown. The nanites are still inactive; I believe it's memory shock again, just more acute than we've yet seen. Fara, this is Doctor Bennett, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?"

The name brought her back; Bennett had been the doctor in charge of watching her and working on a solution to the nanites. The cloudy dream of Project Siren began to dissipate like smoke and she blinked rapidly, hard enough that Bennet released her eyelid and let her see on her own. The black avian knelt over her, along with two nurses who clutched her arms and legs and looked like they wanted to be anywhere other than the sealed explosive containment cell. From the doctor's unflinching demeanor, she knew he hadn't needed prodding to enter the cell despite the threat that she could explode at any second.

"Do you know where you are?" the avian repeated, gesturing for his nurses to release her.

"Vanguard," she rasped on a hoarse throat. She propped herself up on her elbows, her head throbbing and sweat soaking the marine-issue fatigues she thankfully put on after Gage left. "Gage…Captain Birse…he said I should get some sleep."

"Well, sleep can be a frustrating frontier sometimes. Can't control what happens in our heads. The guard monitoring your vitals alerted me when your brain activity started spiking, and I arrived to find you in a comatose panic. Much longer and you heart wouldn't have been able to keep up. You gave us all a fright; thought the nanites were reactivating."

"How long have I been out?"

"Only an hour or so. Good thing this happened now; I have a feeling I'll be needed once the lasers start flying and a bad dream isn't high on my priority list."

Fara shook her head slowly. "It wasn't a dream. I mean, it _was_…I dreamt it…but it was a memory. I know it happened."

She stopped talking and just tried to remember what she could from the dream. The more that formed in her mind, the more she realized how stupid she'd been for wanting to know more, for wanting to know anything about what she'd done in Dianus' name. When she told Gage she was ready to leave the past and be with him, she thought she was confident in the decision. But after he left and she laid down to sleep, she closed her eyes with a busy mind and fell asleep gnawing her lower lip in worry that her past would be lost with the destruction of Project Siren, that what she had done somehow still mattered. And just before the dream took its cruel hold of her mind, she again wondered what she could possibly be looking for in her worries over her past.

She still didn't know. But she did know what she found instead in her sleep; proof that Project Siren only ever brought evil to her and the galaxy. She realized how right she had been to say Dianus could keep the past, moreso than she knew even at the time she spoke it in Gage's ear without half the conviction she now felt coursing through her overworked veins. What mattered most was getting rid of Project Siren.

"It all has to be destroyed. None of it can survive."

"Don't get excited again. After a bout of overexertion like that, you need to rest. Let me get you a—"

"No, listen to me!" Fara scrambled to her feet, fighting a wave of dizziness. The two nurses flinched back. "I need to see Admiral McGarret, now. Tell him it's important."

Bennett furrowed his brow. "The fleet has already begun moving into battle formation. I don't think the admiral has time to—"

"Just do it! I might know something about Project Siren that he doesn't! Just tell him and let him decide if he wants to see me. Please."

The avian frowned and shoved his examination items back into his white coat pockets. He knocked twice on the door to signal the guard on the other side to open up. "If it'll keep you from sending your heart into another marathon, fine. But relax in the meantime. I'll get together some medication to help you sleep with suppressed brain activity and send it along. Take it when it gets here; it's bad enough when the marines don't listen to me, I don't need you ignoring my orders also."

The heave metal door opened just long enough for the doctor and nurses to slip through, then slammed shut again with a thud.

Alone again, Fara picked up a blanket and dabbed away the sweat from her head and neck. She began pacing the cube despite there only being two or three paces of space and absently scrunched and pulled at the blanket in her hands, the anxiety from her dream lingering. Her rapid heartbeat reminded her of the similar feeling in the memory and how she wondered whether it meant that she was broken. But it was just fear.

_Fear is a choice._

Even though his voice only existed in her head, it felt good to have Gage with her in some form. She stopped pacing, closed her eyes, and focused on deep breathing. The ghosts of her dream remained, but she could feel her chest slowly stop pounding like a jackhammer. The simple knowledge that there existed a choice helped soothe her, even though she couldn't be sure if she went as far as to choose not to fear her memories.

Nearly twenty minutes passed, filled with pacing and worry, before the familiar clunk of the door lock sounded its release. Admiral McGarret stepped in and the door shut behind him. Fara knew from the way his brow wrinkled more than usual that he wasn't happy about being pulled away, and the affixed frown deepened upon seeing her. The old wolf folded his arms over his blue uniform and barked, "You can't imagine how many different people need my attention. I could have as many clones as you Sirens and I'd still be up to my neck in shit. The only reason I'm here is because you say you know something. Is that true, or are you wasting my time?"

"It's true. I just had a dream that—"

"I know, Doctor Bennett filled me in. It's impossible to know whether it was a memory or just a dream."

"_I_ know. I'm sure of it." Fara paused, trying to gather her thoughts. "Listen to me; the Bolse cannon isn't powerful enough to destroy Project Siren. The pillar Fox and I saw when we infiltrated the facility…in my dream, I saw part of its construction, its insides. It acts as a central keystone for the titanium and carbon steel support beams. Bolse may damage the infrastructure, but I don't think it can break that pillar."

McGarret nodded, his expression unchanged. "Is that all?"

"Look, I know my dream isn't solid proof but—"

"We already know about the pillar's structure specifics, Phoenix. Most of the information you and Fox brought back was sabotaged to self-erase if accessed anywhere but the facility, but our techs managed to get bits here and there, including the basic blueprint for the pillar."

Fara hesitated. "Wait…so you know Bolse can't take out Project Siren?"

"According to our analysis, it _probably_ can't take out the facility. Right now, I'm forced to settle on the hope that two blasts will cause enough damage to hamper production until we can move in and destroy it permanently."

"But Bolse might not even scratch it!" the vixen snapped. "What if the Atlas wins? Project Siren will be pumping out unmatchable killers in no time! And even if we destroy the Atlas, you'll lose countless men trying to get inside to destroy it. AA and AT defenses aside, the Sirens don't give up. They don't feel fear, they don't retreat. They'll fight to the last breath."

"Phoenix…"

"And do you think we'll be equipped for an assault right after the Atlas falls?! Even if we win, what's keeping Dianus' underlings and the other Sirens from packing up all the research and evacuating somewhere else? You don't think Dianus has outposts and fronts all over the system? It won't end here unless it's destroyed!"

"Phoenix!" McGarret shouted over her. "You think you're telling me anything I haven't already thought of? My forces are spread so goddamn thin the slightest problem could make it all shatter. I have every ground unit able to stand and shoot down on Macbeth fighting for Artemis Tower, including Dagger. I have every ship with a working engine and a gun duct-taped to the hull out there in formation. And it still may not be enough. I had to prioritize targets, Phoenix, and the Atlas is the greater threat. I'm already taking a risk by ordering some of Bolse's energy to be spent trying to cripple Project Siren."

"Let me go then." Fara hadn't planned to say it and her surprise matched McGarret's. But it felt right and she didn't back down. "I can get by the defenses and blow the pillar from the inside."

"Out of the question. Even ignoring the risk we take every second you're out of this cell, I can't put you in a position to be captured by Dianus. You were a Siren, and we know she has methods of keeping her clones controlled and watched. Gathering intel on the Vanguard, our strengths, or weaknesses…it could all be as simple as plugging something into your brain."

"But that facility has to be destroyed! The Atlas may be the bigger threat now, but what if they build an army of Sirens and drop them in the middle of Corneria City? Or just let them disperse among the populace and blend in? Project Siren is every bit a threat as the Atlas!"

"Then I suggest you let me get back to my job." McGarret's expression had softened, though his eyes betrayed no lack of confidence. Not a thing Fara said in her desperation seemed to break through, and she realized she probably still hadn't said anything the old admiral hadn't already lost sleep over. The Vanguard simply couldn't be everywhere at once and McGarret had to make a choice. He had decided on a course of action and stuck with it, knowing the potential consequences.

"We all have to make choices, Phoenix," the wolf continued. "And in war, you rarely get an easy choice. But you make it, you fight, and if you're lucky you live long enough to deal with the outcome."

"And what if we all die?"

"That doesn't mean we made the wrong choice. It just means we were willing to die for it." McGarret knocked on the door and glanced back as it cracked open. "Bennett said he'll be sending some meds along. Just rest and don't upset those nanites by worrying too much. I have to get back; excuse me."

The door shut. Alone again.

Fara stared at the blank metal door and her lip twisted in anger. She understood why McGarret made the choice he did but that didn't mean she liked it. It would be impossible to convince him of the full threat the Sirens posed; how could she make him feel her inherited pain? How could she show him everything she remembered when even she didn't understand it all fully? All she could be certain of was the pain, the terror, the indescribable knowledge of the evil design that birthed the Sirens…and her.

It couldn't have been a coincidence that both Gage and McGarret spoke of choices, wrestled heavily with choices and what they meant in war. Ever since Fara met Gage, she wondered what it would be like to have important missions and the lives of hostages, civilians, and allies all riding on her own decisions. Only one feeling ever came close to what she imagined: fear, the same kind of fear that still gnawed at her gut from the dream.

The more she thought about it, the clearer it seemed. She made some kind of choice in that "Assignment," a choice that Dianus didn't like. That's what she feared; the choice, the consequences it brought her. Such terror did every new memory bring to her heart that she had cowered while Gage and McGarret put themselves on the line, her own mind so locked out from any possibility of repeating a choice with such painful consequences.

A tear washed over her curled lip as she knew she couldn't ignore any longer what she had to do.

"You made your choice, McGarret," she whispered to herself. "But I have to make my own."

-

* * *

-

The door lock released with a heavy clunk as the guard opened it, flashing a provocative grin at the white-uniformed feline nurse. She barely noticed, her attention focused on balancing the tray of water and pills while trying not to appear shaken at the prospect of going back into the explosive containment cell.

Neither of them saw the vixen coming.

Fara slammed her shoulder against the door and the metal slab flew open, sending the tray's contents raining to the ground and the nurse reeling back. Before the guard's jaw could even drop, she struck his throat with the side of her palm; not enough to kill, but enough to keep him busy trying to breathe for a few minutes. As he slumped to his knees, Fara pulled the pistol from his holster and whirled to point it straight at the horrified nurse before she could warm up a scream.

"Take it easy," Fara said, trying to sound forceful but gentle at the same time. "Get in the cell."

The nurse froze and her eyes darted between the containment cell and her assailant.

"Now!"

With a jolt, the nurse scurried into the metal cube and backed up against the far wall. Fara took the wheezing, gasping guard by the collar and shoved him in, sending him into an ungraceful stumble atop the blankets, but not before she swiped his access card from the lanyard on his belt.

"Take deep breaths; you'll be fine in a minute." She started to close the door on them.

"Wait!" the nurse cried. "You…you can't leave us in here!"

"I stared at those walls for God knows how many hours. You can last a half hour until Bennett wonders where you are."

"But where are you going? Why are you leaving the only place that can help you?"

"Look, tell Bennet he can poke and prod me all he wants when I get back. For now, I don't need help. I'm the one who needs to help. Nanites or not."

Fara pushed the door shut and any rebuttal the nurse attempted became muffled behind the thick metal.

_No turning back now._

The vixen stiffened her jaw in determination and hurried to the surveillance chamber that lay behind explosive-resistant glass in one corner of the room. A swipe of the guard's keycard let her in and after a few seconds of searching the terminals she found the lock release for the main door that would lead her to the Vanguard's web of corridors. As she took a step to leave the chamber, she noticed the observer log holoscreen and stopped. When the explosive containment cell was being used for disarming bombs or neutralizing faulty power cells, rather than keeping nanite-threatened vixens imprisoned, advisors would monitor the process from the chamber and speak to the gutsy explosives experts inside the cell. The whole process would be recorded. For Fara's sake, McGarret ordered the surveillance turned off to give her privacy, with quick check-ups every fifteen minutes from the guard…except when Gage visited her.

Fara looked at the holoscreen with a sudden urge, but shook her head and left the chamber. Pills and a couple syringes littered the floor around the cell, islands in a pool of water from the pitcher brought with them. She crouched and brushed away the meds until she found a small bottle of aspirin and dropped it in her pocket; if she couldn't be rid of the heartache from the memories, she may as well at least try to dull the throbbing headache. Without another glance behind, she thrust the pistol into her waistband at the small of her back, covered it with her marine-issue top, and casually exited the room.

-

The urgency coursing through the Vanguard helped keep Fara inconspicuous, and she was glad she stuck with the marine BDUs rather than requesting more comfortable attire. The crewmen and soldiers rushing around barely shot her a glance and those that did hurried by as quickly as they came. She glided through the corridors, trying to not even brush against anyone, remaining just one more faceless soldier in the throng, her eyes scanning for any suspicion and constantly alert for the next blue sign that pointed the way to the armory. She checked her watch in increasingly shorter intervals, worry growing the longer the journey took. The vixen only stopped long enough to down a few aspirins with a gulp of water from a cooler, but even those few seconds felt like they were pressing on her. It wouldn't take long for Bennett to send someone to check on his assistant, and with alerts raised she'd have an easier time flapping her arms to get to Venom than stealing a ship from the hangar.

Finally, after all but jogging the last stretch of corridor, she came to the quadrant's armory. The door slid open to reveal a room of modest size – or at least modest for the Vanguard – though after being cooped up in the cell, it seemed as big as the hangar itself. Rifle display lockers lined the walls, the translucent shielding showing that most had already been taken by the marines. More lockers formed parallel aisles in the center of the room, showing off everything from marine-issue gear to dozens of handgun variations, to launchers and sniper rifles. The shielding kept them all securely locked down and it would take more than her handgun to break the glass. Probably more firepower than the lockers even held.

"Little late, ain't you?"

Fara looked to her left and found a raised platform sporting an array of security terminals encircling an operator's chair. A bear, at least mid-thirties, in a naval uniform sat slumped back in the chair, his ankles crossed and his fingers interlocked behind his head. With his eyes barely open, Fara wouldn't have been surprised if her entrance had awakened him from a nap. She quickly thought back to make sure they'd never met and her memory came up clean.

"What's the story?" the bear pursued when she didn't answer. "Thought all you jarheads already dropped."

"Special assignment," Fara replied, walked over to the platform. "Off the records type of thing, very—"

"Yeah, I get it." The bear leaned back in a stretch, then straightened in his chair and began typing on the console in front of him. "Don't need the details, don't care. I just hand out the hardware, whatever you do with it is between you, the brass, and the guy on the other end of the sights."

"You seem sort of relaxed, all things considered."

The bear shrugged and rotated in his seat to another console. "Nothing I can do about it. Why worry? My part ends when you guys leave here with the goods."

"Guess you got a point." Fara's hooked her right thumb in her pocket, her hand ready to go for the pistol in an instant. "You have a black Venomian combat suit in here, right? Came with a mask and cloak?"

The bear stopped his work on the computer and narrowed his eyes at her. "Yeah, we have something like that lying around. Why? That part of your requisition?"

"It's a very special assignment."

He chuckled under his breath and shrugged again. "Whatever. I hear the chicks who wore those things were insane. You know, screwed in the head. Crazy fighters though. I was lucky enough to be at the fore when the Vanguard got hit, but guys who got stuck back in the fighting told me about 'em. The kind of girl you don't take home, so to speak."

Fara forced a grin. "Afraid of a girl in a mask, huh?"

"Male or female, I avoid homicidal nutjobs. It ain't glamorous in here, but I'll live long enough to collect my pension." He raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Orders?"

Fara's brow rose. "Hm?"

"Your mission requisition orders. This ain't a supermarket."

She thought fast. "Ops didn't upload it to the database? I was told everything was taken care of."

With a sigh, the bear swiveled away again to check the terminal. "Let me take another look; I don't remember seeing anything come in." He shook his head. "Nope, nothing new. Sorry, sweetie; can't let you take anything without the—"

He turned back to find himself staring down a handgun barrel. Fara held the pistol level, the sights lined up right between the soldier's eyes.

"Don't so much as glance at that alarm button." Fara hopped up onto the platform to get a better angle should the bear try to duck away or make a break for it. "You want that pension, right? Keep thinking of that and don't do anything stupid."

"What the hell are you—?"

"Quiet. I'm in a rush; the more time I spend in here, the more irritable I get, okay? So shut up and do what I say and this can end well." Fara nearly cringed at the sound of her own voice. The tone, the aggression…it reminded her too much of her Siren heritage, even though she knew she wouldn't kill him. "I need that combat suit and everything that was checked in with it. The mask, the cloak, the bracer, all that. You have SEC-29s?"

The bear glowered at her, his hands frozen halfway between his knees and head, as if tempted to make a move. But he just nodded.

"Good. Open whatever cabinet has those, and, uh…that's an explosives locker over there, right? Open that."

The bear's scowl deepened. "Listen, lady. I ain't no frontline fighter, but I also ain't some coward whose gonna let you blow up the ship."

Fara stole a glance at her watch and tried her best to hide her growing concern. She redirected the energy into masking herself with anger, her eyes flaring and her teeth bared. The pistol quivered slightly in her clenched hand as she thrust it closer to the bear's head. "Heroes don't collect pensions. It may take me longer, but I can crack the security for these lockers just fine without your huge ass in my way. You really want to die just to cost me a few minutes?"

"Shove it, bitch. Whatever you're planning for the Vanguard, you won't get by security."

She pressed the barrel against his skull. "If I were you, I'd be more concerned about the present. Open the lockers."

"We have checkpoints at all the major—"

"Open the goddamn lockers!"

"—access points into the—"

"I swear to God, you have two seconds."

"—lower decks and ammunition storage. You'll never—"

With a deep growl, Fara wound up and slammed the butt of the pistol into the bear's nose, a sickening crack lingering in the air as he fell backwards off the chair and hit the floor with a hard thud. Moaning in pain, he propped himself up on his side, blood flowing freely from his nose and dripping into a pool beneath his head. He looked up with his bravado shaken. Eyes wide, waiting for the final shot, he lay still without even attempting to wipe away the blood.

But Fara's fear matched his; she found herself too close to delivering that final shot.

The anger she had formulated to intimidate him had taken a dark turn before she could even help it. Nausea crept into her stomach, disgust with herself. For a moment, she saw herself as the bear must have seen her: just like a Siren. Her own perspective wrenched her heart with its familiarity, just like how she felt back at the police station in Corneria City. Flashes of a memory not yet surfaced, of someone lying beneath her gun, and her delivering the final shot. She never felt more like a murderous Siren than that day in the police station, and the memory threatened to pull her under again with the help of the ghosts of her dream.

But she could not afford to fall under the weight of that burden again.

She could not again afford to sit in a corner and shiver while Gage told her everything would be alright.

She held the pistol tight and kept the fire alive in her eyes. "Open the lockers."

Something in Fara's face must have scared the bear into rethinking his stance. With a wet, indignant sniff he pushed himself to his feet, righted the chair, and sat at his console once more, all the while his eyes nervously darting toward the pistol. After a few seconds of typing and inputting passcodes, a few sharp clicks resonated through the room as the locks released.

"Stay with me and don't try anything. Trust me, I'm very quick on the trigger." Fara hopped off the platform and kept the pistol trained the bear, who followed a few paces behind. One of the armor racks against the back wall stood open, camouflage marine body armor hanging side by side like a single-minded wardrobe. Only one item deviated from the pattern: the black Siren combat suit. All the items that went with it had been tossed to the bottom of the locker; the mask stared up at her with vacant, expectant eyes.

"Bags?"

The bear pointed to a slide-out compartment built into the locker's base. Fara pulled it open, retrieved an equipment sack with another worried glance at her watch, and kicked it shut. Within a few seconds, the suit, mask, bracer, and cloak were stuffed into the bag.

Her next stop was the pistol locker where she barely broke stride, just snagged a SEC-29 from a group of three next to the Cornerian models along with a few energy clips. But she took her time at the explosives case, sorting through the different variations of shaped charges and trying to imagine what she'd need, how much time she'd need to get clear after planting them, whether a remote-ignition signal could breach all the way down since she'd have to retreat to the surface before blowing it…and all she had to go on was the smoky memory of the pillar's construction.

Finally, she filled the remainder of the bag with ECX, the best compromise between power and versatility, along with a handful of detonation receiver spikes and a remote detonator.

"So what now?" the bear asked as Fara clasped the bag shut and hefted it over her shoulder. He folded his arms over his broad chest. "You gonna finish me off?"

The vixen stepped closer to him. "Turn around."

With a few moments' reluctance, he turned his back on her but his head lingered to try and keep an eye on her. "Do it in the back then."

"I'm not going to kill you. I'm sorry it even had to go this far."

His eyes narrowed, still half-staring over his shoulder, as much surprised by the apology as the pistol butt to the nose. "Who the hell are you?"

"Maybe today I'll find out."

A swift strike to the temple sent the bear into an unconscious heap on the floor before he could respond. As Fara stepped around him to leave, still sickened at the feelings the entire confrontation had evoked in her, she remembered the bottle of aspirin in her shirt pocket. She shook it to hear the rattle of the pills still left inside and placed it carefully on the edge of the bear's central terminal, where he would clearly see it when he awoke and went to hit the alarm.

-

* * *

-

"_We all remember a time when days like this were normal. We remember a time when we lost friends every day, when each morning brought with it more gunfire, more blood, and more pain. We remember a time when we fought for our homes, when we feared for our families, when we battled for the survival of our way of life. Those of you too young to have fought in the Lylat War know all this as well, for civilians were not spared. The galaxy crumbled around you. It crumbled around all of us._

"_And we all remember."_

McGarret's voice thundered through the corridors. Though any other noise would have just added to the chaos, confusion, and anxiety gripping the ship, his baritone words grabbed the crew's attention and seemed to calm them. Few outright halted what they were doing, but even those that continued about their business grew silent and gave the admiral as much attention as a dying man to his priest.

The aft hangar lay before Fara, as bustling as any other part of the ship. Dozens of fighters sat in their maintenance stalls along both sides of the cavernous hangar, being directed in groups of six to the center for final checks and launch. She had entered just as six more Cornerian fighters shot from the mouth of the hangar with a roar loud enough to startle her. She knew she couldn't hang around long without someone getting suspicious, so she opted to not be seen at all; a hop and slide sent her behind a stack of ship part containers hastily grouped together near the wall.

_"Anyone who lives through a war wonders at one time or another if there was anything that could've been done to prevent it. We wonder how it could have come to such a tragedy. And then we wonder if there was anything we could have done better as soldiers, if we could have saved more lives or summoned up just a bit more courage when it was needed most, or if only we knew our friends would be killed so we could push them to safety or at least say goodbye. Wars end, but their legacies are burned into the minds of those they touch._

"_We all wonder what more we could have done."_

As Fara crept along the pile of containers, she grunted in bitter amusement at the words. What more we could have done? She would have settled for knowing exactly what she did in the first place to earn Dianus' wrath.

Keeping flat against the large metal container at the end of the row, she peered around the side and scanned the gamut of Cornerian fighters looking for just one ship that didn't belong. She spotted it nestled between a couple of battered fighters grounded for maintenance halfway across the hangar, alone, dark, and useless in the battle.

Her Venomian Darklight.

"_All of you: Cornerian marines, Katinian pilots, crewman and soldiers of every allied planet who have come together under the banner of the LDC Vanguard, I'm telling you now that the time has come to put your thoughts to the test! Within the hour, we will all have the chance to do what we wish we could have done the first time! We will have a chance to stop a war before it engulfs our friends, our homes, our families, and the futures of those we love!_

"_Make no mistake. We face a difficult battle against an unyielding enemy every bit as merciless as Andross. Every man and woman will need to give everything of themselves to this fight. Every pilot will need to strike with fury and grace. Every child of the free planets of Lylat must remember why we fight."_

Though Fara had just heard McGarret's speech as more distractions to help keep the crew's attention off her, she found herself frowning in thought as she planned the route she'd take to the Blacklight. Even though he spoke to his crew about the Atlas, she couldn't help feeling the words touch her. She wasn't a child of the free planets, she wasn't a pilot with wingmen and heritage to protect, she never even had a family or a home…but she had memories, fearful enough to bring her to where she was now. She remembered why she decided to fight.

The route to the Blacklight traced in her mind, she waited for the next set of fighters to launch and mask her movement.

_"And I have confidence in this crew and these pilots, because I know that you all remember. None can forget what followed the last time Venom's forces spread to the rest of Lylat."_

Six more fighters burst into the space, the flash of their thrusters covering Fara as she shoved out from her hiding spot and sprinted to the first empty stall. From there, she just had to slip from cover to cover, finding plenty of options amidst the maintenance machinery and empty crates, all left over from the mad rush to fix up as many fighters as possible for the battle.

_"But that will not happen again. Venom will never again find a weak Lylat to prey upon."_

The last dash to the Blacklight proved easier, since no one was paying attention to the repair sector of the hangar. Fara released the grounding clamps and pulled herself up onto the left wing to get at the cockpit.

_"Because this time, when they come to conquer and kill, they will find _us_ standing before them! They will find the people of Lylat have banded together and said no, you will _not_ bring another war to our homes, to our families, to our people!"_

"They'll find all of us standing before them, McGarret," Fara uttered to herself as she manually opened the canopy and tossed her equipment sack inside. She followed and eased herself into the seat. "All of us."

_"They will find a Lylat that remembers the nightmare they brought the first time, people who will fight them to their dying breaths with all the wrath of Heaven and Hell to prevent it from happening again! Never again will Venomian fear weaken the Lylat people's will!"_

The vixen powered her Blacklight up, the rising hum lost amidst the noise of more fighters moving into check and launch positions. She listened to McGarret as the onboard system ran through its startup routine, the indicators and switches lighting up in turn.

_"Today, the regrets and scars of the past end! Today, we stand up to Venom and send them a message: that we are the Vanguard, we are Lylat's shield, and we will never let them threaten our galaxy again!"_

All systems green. Fara readied the boosters, waiting for the next six ships to launch so she could follow them out. No doubt the controllers would notice, but by time they alerted the operations station and they attempted to contact her, she'd be well out of the Vanguard's turret range.

Though Fara couldn't hear McGarret's voice from the speakers anymore with the canopy closed, her fighter's radio was still aligned with the Vanguard from her first mission to Venom and she caught the feed being piped through to the fleet in space.

With the six fighters warming up their boosters, she followed their lead and tightened her hands around the controls. In a blinding burst of power, they shot past her to join their comrades.

_"Man your posts…and remember why we fight!"_

Fara narrowed her eyes, inhaled deeply through clenched teeth, and punched the boost.

-

* * *

-

Space had enveloped her like Dianus' own cold arms, equally unloving and deadly.

The noise of her throttle set to max had filled her ears when she darted clear of the Vanguard's engagement range and set a course for Venom. Her Blacklight's computer had blared a warning that the fighter was being scanned, but it quickly fell silent as she put more distance between them. Her own scanner had picked up a few fighter contacts pursuing her but the Blacklight had the speed advantage and soon they broke away to rejoin McGarret's desperate battle formation.

And they had left her to empty space, the loneliness only building as she lowered her throttle and no more roaring engines filled the void.

Part of her wondered whether McGarret deliberately called back her pursuers, maybe harboring some secret hope for her success. She entertained the thought, but she supposed she'd only find out for sure when she returned and was greeted either by a smile or handcuffs.

_If the ship's still around at all._

"Shut up," she grumbled to herself. No sense worrying over the Vanguard; though she left the fleet, the Titan-class behemoth, and the entire war behind her, she felt more churning in her gut at the approach of Venom than if she had to face down the Atlas by herself. She knew what awaited her inside Project Siren. Her hand instinctively went to her throat and she clasped Gage's dogtags in her fist. What would he think of her running off? Would he ever understand? Could he ever understand why she had to stop Project Siren, or even what she was looking for down there? How could he when even she wasn't totally sure what she wanted to find?

Her eyes grew distant as she stared at the dull orb of Venom, and with silence again all around her as heavy as the containment cell, remembrance of her dream shimmered into her mind once more. She realized that before she had gone to sleep she anguished over that nagging question she refused to burden Gage with: what could she gain from her past? What was she hoping to find? And that same question awaited her when she awoke from the nightmare, freshly haunted by a new wave of horrors from her past.

She didn't ask Gage back in the cell, but nothing was stopping her from asking now. Still clenching the dogtags, she said aloud, "What am I looking for? Everything I have with you is wonderful, and everything I've ever remembered was…just more nightmares. So why can't I just forget? Why can't I stop giving a shit about my past with the Sirens? It's like…it's like…" She shook her head, searching for the words. "It's like there's something buried in my memories that's so important, it's worth all the pain, and it won't let me stop searching."

Just finally saying it out loud comforted her a little. Fara brought the tags to her lips and kissed them before letting them slip through her fingers to dangle again about her neck. She couldn't help smiling a little, remembering the awkward way he had given the tags to her, and it helped just to keep him in her mind rather than images from that damn dream.

"Well," the vixen muttered, "Thanks for listening. But I think we both have other things to think about right now." She picked up the bag from under her feet and looked around the cramped cockpit with a sigh. "Like how the hell I'm going to change clothes in this stupid can."

-

Fara cut the cruise engines after twenty minutes, most of the time spent squeezing herself into the Siren combat suit in the tight quarters. She looped back for a brief moment to see if the battle had started yet and gasped; far distant sparks and flashes told the tale, more than she expected to see. The scene urged her along, reminded her that there was no turning back…not for anyone.

A violent storm brewed and swirled over Venom's eastern hemisphere, glaring at her as she approached. Thankfully, she'd be heading west and would only catch the tail end of it but she was tossed and jolted by the turbulent weather upon her entry into the stratosphere. Lightning lashed out at her, snapping at her and daring her to go any further. The black clouds swallowed her and reached for her with their toxic fingers when she burst from them and throttled up toward the western mountain range, sand billowing in her wake as she skimmed the surface. Soon, the turbulence died down and only the desolate emptiness of desert, rock, and canyon surrounded her.

The mountain that hid and sheltered Project Siren grew on the horizon. Fara had been putting off donning the mask for as long as possible; with a groan she slipped it over her head and adjusted it until she could breathe okay and see clearly through the lenses.

No hesitation held her back as it had when she first came to the mountain with Fox; she knew where the holographic rock hid the entrance and shot through, the harsh light of Venom drowned by the sudden darkness of the cave system. She weaved through the craggy tunnels and stopped where she knew the security drones waited. Sure enough, the soft blue glow of three hover thrusters descended from the ceiling and the spiderlike drones stared at her with their single blood-red eyes.

"Hi again, guys," Fara murmured to herself nervously as she opened her broad frequency and punched in the access code. "Hope you're in a good mood."

Fara's heart picked up speed again as she wondered whether it would've been smarter just to blow through and take her chances with the AA guns. It wouldn't have been subtle, but hovering there just hoping the code still worked left her a sitting duck. She'd never even see the killing blow from the ceiling guns. She didn't have to debate with herself for long; the drones' eyes switched off and they ascended back to the rock overhead where their mechanical legs latched on.

Fara let out a long breath and continued forward, but her heart didn't drop its pace. That was only the first round of security.

Soon, light appeared at the end of the tunnel. The familiar steel landing platform and loading dock sat bathed under spotlights, and the gargantuan security door greeted her with its metallic sheen. The platform and door seemed more than familiar, deeper than her just remembering them from her last trip with Fox. Memories just out of her reach. But why shouldn't it be familiar? She was there in the memory of her punishment. She came from this underground facility like the rest of the Sirens. She was born there.

As Fara pulled into hover and descended toward the platform, she noticed the cavern was a little more occupied than last time. Two Sirens stood at the middle of the hulking security door, motionless except their heads. They kept their eyes on the Blacklight all the way to the platform and kept staring after Fara landed and cut the engine.

"Shit," the vixen hissed. She took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves and reminded herself that she was physically no different, and the facility was as much hers as theirs. All the same biometrics to get through security, just like last time. Just to be prepared, she flipped the safety off on the SEC-29 in her thigh holster. And since she knew carting a bag into facility would probably earn some unwanted attention, she pulled the strap tight over her right shoulder, flattening the bag as best as it could against her back. Her cloak covered her shoulder and the bag; she just hoped no one would want too close an inspection. "Here we go."

The canopy opened and the chilly cave air seeped through Fara's suit just enough to cool her nervous sweat. She vaulted to the grated metal platform and walked toward the door with as much confidence in stride as any Siren.

She felt the two pairs of eyes upon her, watching her every movement…studying her. The masks and lenses hid their eyes but she didn't need to see them to know the cruel coldness that defined a Siren's features.

"Sister," the siren on the right said in greeting. Fara recognized her own voice speaking to her, mutilated by the mask, and it sent a chill down her spine the same as seeing her own face in theirs. "Welcome home."

"Sisters," Fara replied as flatly as she could. "Am I not allowed inside?"

"All kin are welcome home, sister. We stand as the Mistress' eyes in the watch for infiltration, and to receive the technicians. Offer yourself."

Fara realized the Siren meant to go ahead and "offer herself" to the biometric security system. As she coolly walked over to the hidden panel and revealed the security terminal, she wondered what was implied by "the technicians." She grimaced beneath her mask; as far as she was concerned, it was the worst case scenario she warned McGarret of. Technicians called to the facility at the same time such a pivotal battle was taking place a long distance away? To be on-station for repairs? Maybe.

To evacuate research data and critical components in case the battle turned against them? Probably.

Even the slightest chance was too much risk.

Fara punched in the ten-digit security code, the first of the three checks for access to the door. Saving the retinal scan for last, she removed her glove and placed her palm on the pad for the blood sample check. Sliding the glove back on, she paused and wondered whether she needed to remove the mask for the retinal scan. Did Sirens ever remove their masks? But the Dilemma was interrupted by a harsh tone from the terminal; Fara noticed the security check was rejected.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The terminal screen flashed angry red letters: "ACTIVE NANITES DETECTED"

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the two Sirens turn toward her, hands going for the holsters. Like a dripping, vile curse from the depths of hatred, one of them seethed, "The traitor!"

Fara's muscles tightened.

She spun toward the Sirens, SEC-29 palmed and rising to fire. The shot echoed through the cavern and hit the first Siren in the calf, dropping her to one knee and causing her own shot to miss high. Fara had all the time in the world to finish the kill, but the enemy's sudden drop gave the Siren behind her a clear shot, and one she was poised to take. Letting the pistol fall and leaping forward into a shoulder roll, Fara felt the heat of the laser skim her shoulder and knew she wouldn't get another lucky miss like that. She rolled up onto her heels, her wristblade extending with a metallic cry, and grabbed the injured Siren by the throat. With a guttural cry of her own, Fara pulled the vixen into the thrust of her blade, the metal piercing between the ribs and through the heart.

She didn't have time to feel relief at the victory or swallow nausea at the warm blood – family blood – flowing over her hand. Keeping a firm grip on the throat, she pulled her blade free of the dead body and rose to her feet with it, gritting her teeth against the exertion. The second Siren was too smart to try firing through her dead comrade's back – they knew the limits of their sidearms – and opted for a more direct approach to get through the vulpine shield blocking her shot. Fara yelped in pain and dropped the body as the second Siren's wristblade cut through the corpse's abdomen, through its back, and sliced her arm above the elbow.

The dead Siren crumpled to the ground between the remaining vixens.

Fara's left hand instinctively went to her injured arm and came away bloody. The cut was deep enough to need attention eventually, but not enough to warrant even a moment's distraction from her enemy. The Siren leveled her blaster for another shot but aborted and ducked into a readied stance when Fara leapt forward, closing the gap. The two wristblades clashed in a burst of sparks and shimmered through the air, both vixens striking and parrying with speed that only those of their blood could match. The Siren still held her SEC-29 in her left hand but kept it low and out of the fight; Fara wanted nothing more than for the enemy to try for shot so she could strike the arm with her blade, but she suspected that was exactly why the gun remained coiled and waiting for the right moment to pounce.

Fara ducked a quick roundhouse and swiped at the Siren's exposed thigh, earning a spurt of blood and faltering step. She lunged in for a killing blow at the chest…but stopped. With the instincts of battle coursing through her, she nearly forgot that she needed a living Siren to get through the security door. Her hesitation gave the Siren time to recover and lash out a kick at the abdomen, sending her tumbling to the floor nearly on top of the corpse with the wind knocked out of her. Gasping for breath, she could feel the Siren looming over her, preparing to fire. Fara shoved away into a sideways roll as the laser seared the blood-soaked platform.

…but not before borrowing something from the dead vixen.

Using her cloak to mask her quick movements, she slipped the defeated Siren's bracer onto her left wrist and took a fraction of a second to secure a single clasp while charging her enemy once more. She sensed another shot coming – based on the sudden feeling that she would do the same thing – and spun to the side, the laser piercing her cloak. She threw a spinning kick at the gun hand and knocked the pistol away as a third shot missed just over her shoulder.

Again face-to-face, the Siren brought her blade into play and swiped at her opponent's throat. Fara parried the blow and countered with her right blade only, letting the Siren get used to the melee. Finally, when she saw the opportunity, she gave a hard parry that knocked the opposing blade back and punched at the Siren's knee with her left hand, letting the second wristblade jut forth and dig into the flesh and bone. The shocked Siren gasped and fell to her side, but before she could raise the pistol or even think to roll away, Fara pounced on her and thrust her right blade through the vixen's left shoulder, pinning her to the ground.

The Siren writhed in pain, not screaming or groaning or making any sound other than heavy breathing, but her body shivered. Even with her injuries and a blade through her shoulder, she still tried to pull free.

"Stop!" Fara commanded. "I need you breathing."

The Siren seemed to know why. A distorted coughing sound seeped through the mask and Fara realized it was a mix of laughter and pain. The impaled arm tried desperately to move again, but Fara was so intent on keeping the gun pointed away that she almost saw the attempted suicide too late. A firm strike from her left hand knocked the pistol free of the weak fingers and sent it skidding across the platform.

"You'll have no help, traitor," the Siren rasped.

"We'll see."

Fara wasn't gentle; the hatred of what the Siren was – what she herself was – blotted out any concern over the woman's pain. Pulling her blade from the shoulder, she roughly lifted the Siren to her feet and kept her close in a tight headlock. The blade protruded again at the small of the Siren's back, the edge urging her forward and threatening to finish the job. Though the injured vixen struggled as best she could, her wounds sapped the strength behind any attack and her captor easily kept her in control.

Fara shuffled her over to the security terminal and found the keycode still valid and the machine waiting for a proper blood sample. She yanked the glove from the impaled arm, earning another full-body shiver of pain from the Siren, and shoved the hand down onto the pad. With a chime, it accepted the sample and waited for the retinal scan.

The Siren bucked and struggled more as her head was pushed down, nearly causing them both to slip on the blood leaking from her wounds. Fara still wasn't sure whether the scan could work through the masks and wanted to be sure the first scan read right so she wouldn't have to continue risking keeping the enemy alive. With a frustrated growl, she retracted her right blade, brought her hand to the back of the other vixen's neck, and pulled the mask off.

The Siren froze.

Fara nearly stumbled from the sudden halt of shoving but kept her hold tight and blinked in confusion. Swallowing a pit in her stomach at the sight of her own face, empty yet bordering on shock. When the Siren finally started struggling again, she tried not to escape, but rather to look away and hide her face from her captor. With a little less resistance, Fara shoved the Siren's head down to the scanner and kept her eyelids pulled up with her fingers.

Third chime.

The Siren heaved away and Fara let her go, causing the hurt vixen to stumble and fall to one knee a few meters away, and even just supporting herself on one knee must have been agonizing. Even though she had turned away from Fara, she covered her face with both hands and breathed shallowly.

"You have to kill me, don't you?" she strained.

Fara's skin broke out in chills; she had never heard a Siren's voice undistorted from the mask before. For a surreal moment, she thought she said the words herself. A shred of pity surfaced from the hate at the sight of the woman beneath the black shroud pained and lost without her mask. She didn't answer but instead reluctantly retrieved the fallen mask and tossed it at the Siren's feet. Whether a hidden feeling from a lost memory or just a moment of indescribable connection, she realized that the mask _was_ the Siren's face, and without it she was nothing. With as much ceremony as she could muster while still clamoring to put it on, the Siren pulled the mask over her head.

"Kill me," the Siren ordered, whole again. "This delay is impractical."

Something didn't sit right with Fara as she walked over to her SEC-29 and picked it up from the blood-streaked floor. The cold final shot went against something deep inside, deeper than the common decency that gave her no joy in finishing off even her most hated enemies. She turned to the Siren and said, "Force me, sister."

The shivers of pain ceased. With energy betraying her ravaged body, the Siren sprung on her good leg toward Fara, wristblade raised high and yearning to strike.

Two quick shots rang through the cave.

Fara walked to the unlocked security door, satisfied that she had given the Siren, no matter how hopeless, a final chance to die in service of her mistress.

-

The steel cargo lift ground deeper into Venom's bowels, gears ticking off the time of the slow descent. The last time Fara travelled through the rocky pit she had been consumed with fear and anxiety, no clue what she was or what she was about to find out. Now, she stood in the middle of the platform tall and certain, yet with fear still brewing beneath the surface. She stood alone, no Fox there to comfort her this time, but her nerves had hardened since that last visit. So much had become clear. Though she yearned for someone to be with her, but she did not weaken being by herself. The choice gave her strength; for the first time, she herself chose to fight alone and chose to sacrifice her safety for a belief that was hers, not a command programmed into her brain.

With that thought, she tore her mask from her head and took one last look into the dead lenses before tossing it over the side of the lift. She knew what waited for her in the depths of Venom, and she needed to face it as Fara Phoenix.

A peek below showed less than a minute before the platform docked with the loading area below. Fara had decided to keep the second wristblade and checked the clasps one more time on both wrists. She also slapped a fresh clip into her SEC-29, her eyes lingering on the freshly-etched phoenix on the black metal frame, just like the one on the pistol she had asked Gage to keep with him. The long lift ride had given her ample time to carve it with her wristblade and helped soothe her nervous stomach.

As long as that phoenix flew on her weapon, she knew she was different. She was no enslaved Siren.

The monstrous dome lay still and sterile, the titanium supports mocking her with their strength and the central pillar finally in sight. The dozens of rows of pods – Cradles, she remembered – sat quiet yet active, incubating the next generation of Sirens and keeping record of the ones they had already birthed. Returning with the knowledge of exactly what the Project Siren facility produced, the sheer size of the dome and the hundreds of potential Sirens it held only made the place seem worse than last time. Fara hurried down the ramp to the facility floor, pods whizzing by on either side as she ran, reminding herself that Bolse could strike at any moment.

But the Great Pillar wasn't her first stop.

She had wondered the entire trip there whether she'd be able to let the past die with the facility, but the answer to the question she still didn't understand lay too tantalizingly close to pass up. Instinct guiding her, she sprinted down one of the rows of pods and skidded to a stop before the one marked "Subject: Fara." Shaking off the bone-chilling sensation of imagining herself inside once again, she focused on the connected console and followed the same command prompts Fox had used to search for information. But rather than go for the general history synopsis, she kept her eyes glued to the holoscreen and her fingers moving until she found full video history of her past missions. The nightmare came to mind; Dianus had been viewing a video log of the mission that labeled her defective. Was that video still logged?

Fingers shaking in anticipation, she started the decryption and backup process that moved the video files to the detachable data recorder screen docked beside the keyboard. A progress bar popped up on the holoscreen; at its slow decryption rate, it could take up to fifteen minutes.

"I'll be back for you," Fara whispered, more hope than certainty. Once Bolse started its barrage, she'd be left with few options other than hauling ass back to the surface.

She kept the pace easier on her way to the pillar, daring a jog down long stretches but cautiously slipping between pods and around intersections, her eyes constantly darting around in search of Siren Prime. All the while she felt the weight if her presence but couldn't find any trace of her. When she arrived at the base of the gargantuan pillar, she shrugged her bag to the ground and waited, motionless as the pillar itself, straining to hear any sound or see any sliver of shadow that would tell her she wasn't alone.

Nothing. Just the underlying hum of the facilities machinery at work.

"Almost done," Fara whispered to herself as she crouched and tugged the bag open. "Home stretch."

She lined up the seven blocks of ECX on the ground and looked up at the pillar. That much explosive would have been enough to take down a skyscraper with enough left over to vaporize the neighbors…if placed at the right points. But the pillar was designed to take as much pressure as possible, probably stronger than the chassis support of most capital ships. She tried to mentally look through the plating that covered the pillar to the bones underneath, the construction she had seen in the dream. All the titanium and steel carbide met and anchored at certain points at the base. As she moved around the pillar, Fara saw five humps where the anchors locked into place and her confidence grew; they had to be the right places! Bombing the anchors wouldn't in itself cause the dome to collapse, but if Bolse struck without the pillar supported properly…

The vixen wasted no more time.

She stuck a block to each anchor bulge and placed the extra two in between for good measure. Satisfied they were secure well enough, she retrieved the bundle of remote detonation receiver spikes and knelt at the first ECX.

But a noise perked her ears.

Not an obvious noise, more like a suggestion, a whisper or breeze easily mistaken for the imagination.

But there was nothing imaginary about the figure behind her.

Siren Prime stood no more than a hundred feet away in the middle of a row of pods. Her crimson cloak fluttered about her ankles, casting fleeting shadows over the combat suit of the same color. Fara slowly stood and turned to face her, lost in the identical face. It seemed as a mirror, reflecting the face of her darkest and most savage nature. Fear surfaced as Fara faced the confrontation she had most dreaded, yet the one she had known to be inevitable once she chose to return "home."

Fara wondered why she wasn't already a corpse with laser scorches peppering her back, but noticed that not only did Prime not have a gun in her hand, she didn't even have a holster. To anyone else, the reliance on melee and a face flawless and unscarred from battle would indicate stupidity and inexperience. But Fara knew better. Prime had the luxury of preferring melee because guns did not frighten her, and her unscarred face only brought more fear to those who saw it because it was the face of one so skilled, no one had come close to scarring her during her many confrontations. Fara's handgun was out of the question; Prime's speed rendered it an invitation to get her hand lopped off.

"You're the first," Fara said, her low voice seeming as loud as a scream in the still air. "You were…born. A mother carried you in her womb. Someone loved you at some point. You're the only one of us who was ever real."

Prime's steel eyes didn't as much as blink.

"You were an assassin. You were so good at murdering you attracted the attention of the worst dictator in history. Somewhere in your life, you chose to be evil." Fara swallowed rising anger. "And you passed that goddamn decision onto the rest of us. We all have to live with it, whether we want to or not. You were the only one of us who ever had a choice, and you fucking wasted it. Did they brainwash it all out of you? Can you even remember who you were?"

Prime's wristblade shot from its sheath, the blade shining in the bright light as she twisted her arm slowly as if to show it off.

Fara's eyes narrowed. "Will you allow me to live if I let you put me back in stasis and fix me? I let you do that once. When I was a Siren, I let you torture me and enslave me." She flung her arms wide and unsheathed both wrsitblades at once, their high-pitched metallic chorus filling the dead air. "But I'm no longer a Siren!"

Prime's muzzle lowered and her eyes burned brighter.

And with a blur of red, she attacked.

Fara met her head on, her rapid movements guided by her heritage but her strength pushed further by her purpose. Working the new left wristblade into her attacks came easily and the two blades parried, attacked, and worked separately yet together like two dancers moving to the same rhythm. But Prime seem unfazed by the new attack style and her own blade was there to stop every attack thrown at her, sparks bursting between them like a string of fireworks, the cracks of their impact rapid as machine gun fire.

Prime went on the offensive, her blinding speed causing her enemy to backpedal. Aware of her surroundings, Fara jumped back at the pod she knew was behind her, planted a boot on the surface, and launched up into a spinning kick that nailed Prime in the face and gave her some breathing room to attack again. Barely fazed, the First Sister whirled into a low sweep kick that knocked Fara's feet from under her, and followed with a slash that cut the prone vixen's thigh before she even hit the ground. With a grunt of pain, Fara rolled out of the way of a follow-up thrust and leapt to her feet, faltering for a moment as she adjusted to the new pain in her leg.

But Prime anticipated the hesitation and didn't relent. Fara crossed her blades to block a high arc, but the Siren dug her knee into the exposed abdomen and delivered a lighting-fast roundhouse to the stunned vixen, sending her back into a dazed stumble. With a furious growl of determination, Fara recovered in time to thrust at the approaching enemy, knowing full well it would be blocked, and follow up with a hopefully unexpected slash to the torso. Her blade met its mark and finally spilled the First Sister's blood, but not before the enemy blade arced down from the block and swiped her on the muzzle.

Both vixens dashed back and apart.

Blood dripped through Fara's fingers when she felt the top of her muzzle and found a deep gash running between her eyes and almost down to her neck. The searing pain blinded her for a moment but the pain of her enemy brought her back. Prime caressed her torn combat suit beneath her ribs and looked at the blood on her fingertips with the same cold distance as ever. The small wound reinvigorated Fara, proved the First Sister bled as freely as any of them.

But Prime's dead expression finally cracked. Her mouth twisted into an enraged scowl and her brow darkened over blazing eyes. In a flash, she was within striking distance and lashed out with her blade, keeping Fara's own busy and almost unable to keep up. One slight lack of anticipation meant death. With every swing and thrust, every gust of air from the near-misses, Fara felt her defenses faltering under aching, beaten muscles and burning lungs. At least, when she moved to parry and felt no connection, she only had time for her breath to catch in her throat before agonizing pain broke out in her shoulder. She cried out and stepped back, but Prime kept on her and delivered two more quick thrusts, one which pierced her leg.

A swift kick to the muzzle was all Fara could take; she fell face-down to the metal floor and moaned, her body on fire.

_Not now! Not like this!_

She planted her palms on the floor, trying to push herself up, and soon had some rough, unwanted help. Sensing her victory, Prime grabbed Fara by the fur of her neck and pulled her up to her knees. A blade at the temple kept her from trying to get away, if her body even would have cooperated.

The First Sister spoke, hissed, in a whisper that crept into the horrors Fara could only remember through feeling. "Beg. Beg for forgiveness from Mistress Dianus before you die."

_Not like this!_

"Never again."

The blade twitched against Fara's skin and pulled back, winding up for the final blow. All at once, she realized all she wouldn't ever see again, all the love she had just discovered and would never see through to the end. But worst of all, she realized her death allowed Project Siren to live on.

That threat sparked a fire in her legs. It spread to her stomach and up her chest to her arms, strengthening the traumatized muscles, filling the lost blood. She saw Gage for the first time, risking his life against pirates to rescue her when he didn't even know her yet. He saw him down on Macbeth, willingly throwing himself at Venom's hordes for a galaxy that would never know his name. She remembered his promise to cure her and stay with her, casting aside the unnatural thing she was.

Then she saw him amidst countless bodies killed by Sirens, living in a galaxy terrorized by her own "sisters." She saw her own soulless face behind ever killer, everyone Gage fought. She saw Gage's dead body lying in a pool of blood with the other Dagger soldiers, finally felled by the horde of Sirens around him. How long did they hold out? How long did Gage have to fight and suffer because Project Siren lived?

_Not him…not like this!_

With a cry of rage, Fara rose into a spin and slammed her shoulder into Prime's stomach, all her pain insignificant beside the pain of seeing Gage's future.

She pounced at Prime with all the strength she had left, her blades yearning for the surprised vixen's chest, Prime's own blade striking out to finish its execution. A gasp of victorious elation escaped her muzzle when both blades sunk into the crimson combat suit and buried themselves up the wrist between her ribs. Both vixens fell to the ground, Fara on top of the enemy, their muzzles only millimeters apart. She trembled from the excitement of seeing Prime's life slip away from her icy eyes, her breathing becoming shallower and shallower.

But the trembling grew and pain returned to her body, far more pain than she had felt moments before. She tried to breathe but found her body protesting, sharp daggers of pain tearing at her insides with every attempted breath. Finally retracting the blades into the bracers with a wet slip from Prime's chest, she looked to her stomach.

Blood…dripping from her stomach to Prime's body…dripping where Prime's own wristblade had sunk deep into the flesh. Feeling cold sweat break out all over, Fara lifted herself off the blade, quaking from the pain, and rolled to her back to lay side by side next to the Siren.

_No…God, no…_

Fara's eyes clenched shut, tears squeezing through. She tried to tell herself it wasn't bad, but her inescapable Siren knowledge of anatomy and the best ways to destroy it wouldn't allow the fantasy. But the fire that had built up inside her wouldn't let her give up. She had killed Prime, she had set the explosives…all that remained was to finish the job and hold on just long enough to get back to the nearest Cornerian ship.

"Tell me," she croaked, eyes still closed to the bright lights shining down. "What's our real name? What were our parents' names?"

No answer. Fara looked over and saw the eyes wide open, but the chest still and lifeless.

_It all dies with the facility._

_ No…not everything…I can still find out one thing._

Left forearm glued to the wound in her stomach, Fara struggled to her feet and limped away from her defeated torturer. Each step aggravated her wounds but she focused on keeping her balance and not succumbing to waves of dizziness. When her pod came into view, she felt too close for anything to stop her, and she doubted anything could.

The progress bar had finished; everything she needed was in that data recorder.

_But what do I hope to find?_

Prying the detachable recorder free of its dock, Fara slumped against the pod that had borne her and slid down to a sitting position on the floor. She scrolled all the way through to the last video log, labeled "Ocular Lens / Audio Recording: 024. Mission Failure. Subject Defective."

With a shiver not attributed to any pain, she touched the file and watched the recording taken from her own mask lenses, each movement indescribably familiar.

-

* * *

-

A familiar place. Dirt, rusted metal. Sand. But not Venomian sand.

Titania.

Papetoon…the Arwing facility…

She looked around and moved carefully through the control room, smoke and brown haze nearly engulfing the air. A look through the large glass window that took up one wall confirmed her Master's fears; the traitor had been successful. Every Arwing prototype had been blown to blackened husks, flames still licking the metal and acting as the only light in the storm of smoke.

But Fara turned her attention to the sound of frantic rummaging from the data storage banks adjacent the control room. Feet light as feathers on the rusty floor, she moved to the open door and peered inside. Barely visible at only twenty feet away, a figure huffed and wheezed in exertion, pulling data bank after data bank from the storage racks, smashing them against the wall, the floor, anything to break them.

But he stopped. Even she could not prevent the smoke from wafting in her wake, betraying her position.

The figure turned, a pistol in his hand, but hers was fastest by far and fired before his could even level. He fell to the floor, his gun flying from his hand at the impact of the laser against his arm, and he struggled away from her until he sat against the far wall. Fara had not wanted to kill him right away; she needed to be sure of her target first. Her orders of who to kill were very clear, and the Master could not spare losing any knowledgeable servants.

He didn't try to get away, didn't try to go for his gun. He knew what was coming for him. Fara stepped forward until she loomed over him, the smoke unable to hide him any longer.

"James McCloud," Fara said. "The Master has ordered your death for treason. Beg for her mercy before you die."

The red fox looked up at her. Forlorn eyes, confident eyes. "Identify."

"Subject Fara."

"Fara?" He chuckled, pain from his injured arm tainting it. "One of the first. Strange fate, you being sent to kill me. I always liked you the best."

The sights sat firm over McCloud's forehead.

"I thought you were all alike, but you…you always seemed…sad. Vixy and Andross never noticed; why should they? They didn't care about what they created so long as it got the job done. You…you do as your told, but it makes you sad."

The gun didn't fire. "What does sad feel like?"

McCloud looked at her with a softness no on else had ever done. "It's what you feel when you stand in front of your Cradle and stare at it for hours on end. I've seen you."

Fara replied, her voice softer. "Why do I do that?"

"Andross thinks he's making soulless copies. I think he's wrong. I think there's something inside you looking for a way out. You know there's something wrong with what you do, don't you?"

"The Master and Mistress say it's right."

"If you were any other Siren, I wouldn't bother wasting my breath talking. But you…I hold you responsible for your actions. You can make your own choice here." McCloud stared at the barrel of the gun. "A person's character can be identified less from what he does than what he refuses to do. I forgot that once. Is there anything you refuse to do, Fara?"

The pistol became unsteady. She pulled the trigger and a shot let out a deafening echo in the tight space. When the smoke drifted clear, a scorched chunk of wall over James' right shoulder showered him with ash. He coughed and looked up at Fara, surprised.

The gun lowered.

Her voice sounded nothing like a Chosen Child.

"I don't want to kill anymore."

-

* * *

-

Tears streaked down Fara's lacerated muzzle and fell red to the floor. For the first time, a memory became clear in her mind and didn't bring with it horror and regret. The ghostly image that had haunted her at the police station, at the armory, the image of a figure cowering below her and a gunshot ending it…it had been struggling to surface not because of its shame, but because it sought to answer every question she and Gage ever struggled over.

_Did I ever have a choice?_

_ Was I always a murderer?_

_ Do I have a soul?_

"Defective," Fara whispered to herself, a grin struggling to her face. "I'm defective. I'm not a Siren."

Fara remembered the first trip to Project Siren with Fox, how the mercenary himself struggled with making amends for the torture he almost put her through on TDE. She forgave him based mostly on the hazy memory of that one sentence, that one assertion that a person can be defined by refusal, the sentence that changed her life, spoken by his own father. She hadn't known it when she mentioned the line to him, but she wondered if it helped bring him peace as well.

And with a long breath that shot pain through her stomach, she realized that's what she had been searching for this whole time in her past: peace, proof that she wore the mask, but the mask didn't wear her.

The data recorder slipped to the ground from her tacky fingers. Her strength could not last much longer, but there wasn't a doubt in her mind that she could force herself to last as long as was needed. Hands grasping her Cradle for support, she pulled herself to her feet and shuffled toward the Great Pillar.

* * *

_I hope this thing's working. Whoever finds this, you probably know already that I'm not on the Vanguard anymore. My name is Fara Phoenix, and this message is for Captain Gage Birse of Cornerian Army Special Forces Detachment Echo._

_Gage…_

_I almost left without leaving this. I walked out of the containment room, but then I stopped and knew I had to leave something. I need to talk to you in case…_

_Just in case. So here I am back at the cell's security station, not even sure what I'm trying to say._

_But let me try anyway._

* * *

Fara picked up the fistful of detonation receiver spikes and knelt at the first ECX block. She pressed one into the shaped charge, activated it, and waited for the red light to turn green.

Six more…

* * *

_You told me about choices, and I had to make one. If anyone could understand that, it's you. I don't know if you'll find a cure for the nanites down there; something deep inside doesn't give me much hope, as if Dianus programmed into all of us the knowledge that we're doomed if we betray, no chance for redemption. But this isn't about me anymore._

_I had a dream while you were away and it opened my eyes to a few things. I felt the threat, far more than just knowing it. Like you…you feel Hellion. You feel their threat, more than anyone could just know it. If you had your chance to end their threat forever, isn't that worth risking your life for? Isn't that worth dying for?_

_I feel that._

* * *

With the last spike activated, Fara stumbled back to her bag and fell to her knees over it. She retrieved the detonator, flicked it on, and waited for it to detect and connect with the activated remote spikes. Each breath was a struggle and a cold chill spread through her body.

* * *

_I wish it didn't have to be this way. I wish we didn't have to say our goodbyes and hope that we'd live long enough to see each other again. But I've been just wishing for too long. I've been letting my memories and my past dig into me and take hold of me for too long. I have to do what I know I can, what I know is necessary. And I know you'll respect that._

_But that doesn't mean I'm not scared shitless. I'm scared we'll never have another day like we did today, happy in each others' arms. I'm scared to go back to Project Siren. But you're scared also, aren't you? You try to hide it, but I can see it. You're scared and you do what has to be done. That's one of the reasons I fell in love with you. You embody everything a Siren is not, and I only hope I can as well._

_That's worth the fear._

* * *

Fara yelped and teetered as a deafening roar reverberated through the dome and the entire infrastructure shook as if the planet itself was caving in. Sparks rained down from ruined power conduits along with clouds of dust and debris from the ceiling, and even the pillar anchors groaned. The vixen didn't need to piece it to together; Bolse had begun its attack.

The quake lasted a few seconds, followed by groans, flickering lights, and choking clouds of gas and dust released through the air. With a heavy heart, Fara shuffled to the pillar and slumped down to the ground with her back against it. Fresh tears welled in her eyes, her hand clutching the activated detonator, her finger poised over the trigger.

* * *

_Whatever happens, I want you to know that I don't think I would have survived without you. And not just because you rescued me from those pirates, but because you treated me like a real person, even after you found out I'm not one. When I came onboard the Vanguard, I wished I could remember more. When I remembered more, I wished I could forget it. When I wished I was more than just what my memories suggested, you were there._

_You gave me my wish._

_I love you, Gage, and I want nothing more than to see you again. But if we don't…that doesn't mean we made the wrong decisions. It just means we were willing to die for them._

_This is Fara Phoenix, signing off._

* * *

Fara could feel the grip weaken around the detonator, the injury and blood loss taking its toll. But she held on. Her left hand came away from the wound and took Gage's dogtags from under the combat suit. She clenched them as hard as she could in her quivering hand and brought them to her lips.

A second roar, a second onslaught of smoke and metallic groans, like a huge beast in its death throes.

Only two blasts to spare from Bolse.

Last chance.

Fara breathed in deeply one last time, imagining Gage's hands wrapped around her own, and squeezed the trigger.

-

**_-Chapter 25 Coming Soon-_**


	32. Odi et Amo

[Author's Note: Glad to release an update sooner this time. Just to be clear, the "Lylat's Stand" chapter trilogy is done and time is moving forward once more. Thanks for reading everyone and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 25  
Odi et Amo  
_LDC Vanguard_  
_1107 hours local_

-

"I tell you, I've only seen him like this a few times. Once we got back, he spent like a full day alone in the explosive containment cell, listening to that recording over and over. Then he spent some time with Delaine and Braddock in the infirmary, but he wasn't exactly a picker-upper in his condition. I told him to go get some rest, so what does he do? Ignores me. I'm starting to get a little worried about him."

Fox and Falco exchanged a look as they followed Ley through the Vanguard's maze of corridors. For as long as they had known Gage, he took his share of hits but always bounced back stronger because of it, never giving his friends and teammates reason for worry. But never had Ley's usually bright eyes been shadowed with concern for her captain quite as darkly as they were now, leading the two mercenaries to him.

"Maybe he just needs more time," Fox offered, skirting sideways to avoid a pair of crewmen hauling a crate of power converters. "This is as far as Gage has ever been in a relationship. If there was ever going to be a Mrs. Birse, this was it. Not only that, but this is also one more strike against Hellion. If the nanites were never activated, he could've kept her with him. Not to mention she would've eventually died from the nanites since the techies found nothing about a cure in Artemis Tower."

"Don't forget the trigger," Falco added. "Hellion tricked him into activating the nanites himself."

Ley shot him a piercing glance over her shoulder. "Gee thanks, blueballs, that one almost slipped our minds."

"Point is," the fox continued before his wingman could shoot back, "he lost a loved one. That kind of pain doesn't just go away. Have you tried talking with him?"

"Of course, but all he does is tell me to be with Del and Braddock, that they need me more. Tien hasn't had any better luck."

"Huh…that's Gage for you. Team first. Or just trying to take the focus off himself."

"Either way, it's classic Birse. Wish you could've done this sooner; if he'll talk to anyone outside his team, it's you." Ley glanced again at Falco. "As long as you leave him outside."

"You know, I'm here to help same as you all," he snapped. "A little appreciation would be nice."

The leopardess half-smirked. "Why's he really here, McCloud?"

"We ran out of coffee on the INH this morning."

After a few more minutes weaving through the crowded corridors, avoiding cordoned-off areas damaged in the battle, they neared the sector's practice range. Somehow the Vanguard seemed even more active than before the battle, but Fox supposed that had to do with the LDC engineer reinforcements; he could pick them out of the crowds immediately, with their pristine, crisp uniforms, fully-awake eyes, and sense of wonder at not only working on the great LDC Vanguard, but a Vanguard torn up by recent war. They looked just like the original crew did when the Vanguard set out from Corneria.

_Amazing how a few weeks can change a man, _Fox thought. The war had touched them all.

"Here we are," Ley said, peering through the vertical rectangular window in the middle of the practice range door. Fox and Falco followed her lead and spied Gage inside, firing Fara's SEC-29 down-range at a silhouette. "He's been here for hours. This was always his way of relaxing or thinking or dealing with a really tough mission, but an hour or two usually does it for him. Del always said he does this rather than cry or talk. Me? I've learned to read his face to tell how bad he feels inside."

"Yeah?" Falco said, squinting at the Dagger captain's stone-solid neutral expression. "How bad is he 'crying' right now?"

"That face?" The leopardess frowned and studied him. "That's him on his knees trembling and crying blood because he ran out of tears."

"Pretty bad then."

"I'll be with Del and Braddock if you need me, and Tien's floating around also helping with repairs. Good luck."

Fox nodded and turned his attention back to the window where his friend had slapped in a fresh energy clip and started in on the silhouette once more, his shots at deliberate, equal intervals, and always hitting their mark on the head.

"You sure you want to go in there when he's got a gun and that look on his face?" Falco asked. "At least wait 'til he's reloading."

"I'll be fine. Just stay here and make sure no one else comes in, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just hurry up. I still need my damn coffee."

Gage didn't even glance over as Fox activated the door, stepped inside, and let it close behind him with a gentle hydraulic sigh. Four more lasers pierced the heat-resistant synthetic paper silhouette fifty feet downrange. Taking it slow, Fox walked toward him and kept to his right so he'd be visible in Gage's peripheral vision. When he was sure Gage knew he was there, he stepped closer and hoisted himself up to sit on the long ammo table that stretched the length of the range.

"You know," he said when the shooting paused for another reload, the empty clip joining a dozen others on the floor. "I think you're the only guy I know who prefers paper targets instead of holo-targets. Whoever makes those is probably still in business only because of you."

Another quick succession of twenty shots. Though facing the other way from his perch on the table, Fox didn't need to look to know they all hit.

"I wanted to be here sooner, but the Vanguard was under that lockdown until this morning. The ship got so beat up they wouldn't let anyone on until every critical unit was inspected and stabilized." He paused. "Listen, Gage. When I heard about Fara, I was torn up also. I knew her, I knew how much suffering she went through just to try and prove she was one of the good guys. I felt like shit after I almost hurt her on he TDE station, and I felt even more like shit remembering it again. I listened to that recording she left also. If there's any comfort here, it's that she died as more of a hero than most soldiers could ever hope to be. We all talk about sacrifice, but she had to do it as…well, as Fara, and all the baggage that came with it. If anyone during this whole Dianus conflict deserves to be remembered it's her."

After emptying his next clip into the target, Gage hit the zipline button on the table and the silhouette flew to him in two seconds. The only scarred area of the whole "body" was the head…or, the gaping hole where the head used to be, whittled away by a couple hundred shots. With a calm, collected gait, he took two handfuls of spent clips to the charging station built into the back wall near the gun racks and locked them into position to refill. While they recharged, he gathered a few more fresh clips from the rack beside it, along with a fresh soon-to-be-ravaged silhouette, and returned to where his pistol lay on the table beside Fox.

"I never lost a loved one outside my family," the mercenary continued. "But I've been so busy with Starfox I never really looked for a woman, and I guess you weren't looking either. Fara just sort of…happened. But I can tell you this: I don't know if I'd be the same man I am today f I didn't have Peppy and my other friends with me after my father…died. Or, at least when I thought he died. That's why I'm here. You keeping it all in and putting on the statue face is all well and good when you're trying to hold a tough mission together for your team, but this is me now."

The silhouette zipped out to fifty feet and awaited its fate. Gage opened up with a killshot to the head and delivered nineteen more.

"So…what, you plan on just shooting 'til it stops hurting? Gage, talk to me. Say something, anything, just let me know you're okay upstairs."

The darker fox kept his handgun lowered when he loaded the next clip and looked down at it for a few seconds. He spoke with a voice as unreadable as his face. "You're a good person, Fox. I don't need a good person right now."

Fox slowly nodded, relieved that at least he said something. "Alright. Then what do you need?"

No answer. Gage leveled his SEC-29 and fired again at the silhouette, the first shot a period to end the conversation.

"Fine." Fox hopped off the table. "Take as long as you have to. Just so you know, the INH is leaving the battlegroup tomorrow as soon as the LDC finishes debriefing us. With the 4th Fleet here, there's no need to keep mercs around. Beltino's men have been working on my Arwing since the LDC lifted it off Venom, but it needs more parts and labor than we have out here to get it back to fully operational. So we'll be spending today and tomorrow out near Venom to tie up a loose end and then we're heading back to Corneria to recuperate, repair the fighters…and give Slippy a proper ceremony once Beltino joins us. Give me a call when Dagger gets back planetside, okay? God knows you guys are due for some R and R."

He didn't get an answer and didn't expect one. With a clap on the shoulder in farewell, Fox walked back to the corridor and let the cracks of gunfire fall silent behind the closed door before letting out his breath in disappointment.

"You guys have a nice heart to heart?" Falco grunted from where he stood leaning against the wall with his arms folded.

"Give him a break, will you? I know you two don't get along but this isn't the time."

"Relax, ain't like he can hear me. What happened?"

Fox turned back to the door and peered through the window. "What do you think? All we can do is give him time. Guess we can be thankful that at least the war's over."

"Well,_ he_ can be thankful." Falco looked over his leader's shoulder into the range. "I nearly pissed myself when Robin got done itemizing expenses for our bill. Our biggest one ever, next to the Lylat War. Drinks are on me once the military cuts our check."

The avian sighed when Fox didn't answer. He waited another minute, impatiently strumming his fingers against his forearm, and finally said with a huff, "Look, you want me to go in there?"

Fox looked back at him as if he'd grown a second beak. "What? What the hell for?"

"I dunno, maybe he'll respond better to someone just talking rather than trying a warm-fuzzy 'open up' approach."

"What makes you think I did that?"

"Because you've tried to cheer me up plenty of times. And every time it just made me want to puke."

Fox rolled his eyes. "Fine, next time I'll just leave you and the bottle of bourbon to sort it out between yourselves. What'll you say to him?"

"Who knows? His moping is keeping me from my coffee, so I'll try anything. I'll give it a go for three minutes and if nothing gets through, we leave. Deal?"

"Fine, but remember he doesn't like you anymore than you like him. Watch what you say. Don't be so…you."

Falco elbowed him aside and reached for the door activation panel. "Hey, your way bombed, let me do this my way."

"Be my guest. Maybe beating you into a pulp will help bring him around."

"Whatever, just watch and learn."

Gage had just finished putting up a new silhouette and buzzing it back to its position when the newcomer entered. Even though the fox's eyes hadn't even twitched in his direction, Falco could feel the intensity coursing off of him. He started firing again and each shot reverberated heavily from the walls of the vacant range as if the shooter's internal storm flowed through every blast. Feeling suddenly a little less sure of himself now that he got a good look at Gage's face, Falco stepped forward and veered behind Gage, as far out of the line of fire as he could get.

"How's it goin,' boy scout?" the avian shouted, lowering his voice when the clip ran dry. "We ain't really talked that much, you and me, not since that mission to Bolse. Not much before that either. Listen, I told Fox I'd give you a few minutes here, so I'll just talk a bit about whatever and if you feel like chiming in, go on ahead. Okay?"

Gage put a round through the silhouette's head.

"Good." Falco stepped to the charging station against the wall and leaned against it. "You see those asshats from the LDC here to debrief McGarret and Henriksen? If there's anyone I avoid more than military brass it's guys in really nice suits. Always trouble. Way I see it, all they can really do is frown and get pissy and try to think of a way to take all the credit. If they bust McGarret for disobeying orders, their public image goes down the crapper. The LDC is already getting nailed in the press for letting a threat get so close. McGarret and Henriksen saved their asses and they know it; won't stop them from being bureaucratic dicks though."

Gage ejected the spent clip and slapped in a fresh one.

"Whaddya got there, SEC-29? Never thought you'd use one of those. Not the worst tech to come from Venom though; no, that'd have to be the Invader fighter series. All you had to do was fly in their general direction and they blew up. I'd rather hold my breath and float around with a BB gun than dogfight in one of those. Brings back memories…the war, I mean. This whole thing with Dianus…this was the closest thing to the war I've felt since Andross went down. Felt good, you know? Lotta memories though. Some not too good."

With twenty new holes perforating the head, a new clip was loaded.

Falco huffed heavily. "Look, man, I'm trying to cover the bases here. Guns, war, politics, what else is there we can talk about? I already know you hate mercs, and I hate military drones, you wanna start that up again? You gotta put down the gun first though."

Gage fired at the silhouette again, most of his shots passing clean through the holes already there.

"Well, I'm done then. I didn't get my coffee today and you ain't keeping me awake. It sucks about Fara, it really does, but I don't have the solution. I never been in this situation."

Falco straightened off the wall to leave but kept his eyes on Gage's back for a few moments. As if the fox himself had caught him in a lie, though the shooting hadn't even paused, he furrowed his brow and leaned back against the wall. His own words sparked the memory. Nervously scratching his neck, he said, "Well…that ain't entirely true."

Gage made no indication of interest, but Falco continued anyway.

"There was this girl back home. A year or so after the war, Starfox took a few months off clean-up work to relax in Corneria City and implement some upgrades from TDE. Well, Slippy did most of that. That was vacation for him. Me, I hit the city hard, spent my share of that free-flowing cash that was coming in. You heard of Katt from Fox, right? Well me and her were on and off in those days and I…got my comfort elsewhere when she was in one of her 'don't ever call me again' rants. The city's red light district is still the best in the galaxy, if you ask me, at least as far as quality goes. You ever been down that way?"

A spent clip slid from the pistol and hit the ground with a sharp thud.

"Right, well anyway, there was this one 'spa' where the girls offered more than just massages if a guy knew how to ask right. I could never afford the place before but I was swimming in creds then and went for it. There was this one girl, feline, with this fur color I couldn't take my eyes off. It was black if she was standing one way in the light, and this deep, glossy blue whenever she moved, like a neon midnight. She said her name was Lisa, but I don't know if it was real or not. I can tell you what _was_ real though." Falco cupped his hands upward in front of himself. "I tell ya, she had a balcony you could watch opera from, know what I mean? They were incredible, and I have the experience to spot fakes from a hundred paces."

Falco's wry grin slowly melted away and his eyes lowered to the floor at Gage's feet, becoming distant. "She was different, you know? I sort of wanted her to want me also. She didn't want to be there, but she was trying her best to act the part. I actually started feeling kind of guilty but I think she saw that, which made her uncomfortable also. So there we were in the room I paid three hundred creds an hour for, fumbling around like two idiot kids. I've been with beautiful girls before, but she had these eyes that…there was something inside them, they..." He paused. "She was just different. She may've been the prostitute, but I felt like the dirt sitting next to her.

"So she makes the first move and we get on with what I paid for. One of the best nights of my life. I saw her as much as I could before the Great Fox shipped out again, and then a couple more times during regular rotations back to Corneria. We never called each other, never went out for dinner, just had our nights at the spa. She didn't want her bosses to know she was into one of the regulars; guys like that don't like their girls getting ideas about leaving into their heads."

Falco realized he had unconsciously started scratching his neck again and folded his arms. "So we roll into port one day and I head off to see Lisa, but she ain't at the spa and the place looks different. I ask the girl at the desk what's up and everyone gets all down in the face. Turns out, she, uh…she was killed while I was gone. She got pregnant from someone and the boss found out, got really pissed. Told her to get rid of the baby but she refused and told him she quit. He didn't like that; his muscle followed her and tried to 'change her mind' in an alley, but ended up killing her by accident. Lots of arrests were made, the spa changed hands, but I didn't care. I only cared about Lisa."

The silence seemed out of place; Falco looked up and saw that Gage had stopped shooting, at least for a few seconds. When the silence had hung in the air for no more than half a minute, he resumed plinking at the silhouette.

"Part of me wondered if it was my kid, too," the avian continued. "Protection ain't a hundred percent. I never found out though, didn't even want to know. Not like there was anything I could do about it. I tell you one thing, though…I wanted to kill. I wanted to kill the boss, his thugs, everyone who had a hand in her death. For a long time, I didn't want to hear nothin' from no one, not even my team. It got better with time, but I still avoid that entire street whenever I go to the city. And back then for a little therapy I'd envision that boss' fat ugly face on a target for some practice shooting. Nothin' wrong with a little alone time for a guy and his weaponry."

Falco's face suddenly burned as he realized how long he had been talking – and about what – and he rolled his eyes at himself. He hadn't thought about Lisa for a long time and once her eyes became clear in his memory, the days he shared with her resurfaced all at once. He felt like a pansy, probably sounded like more of a sap than Fox did, but he found pushing the story out of his mind more difficult than he'd hoped.

"Anyway, my love life ain't the point," Falco barked, trying to change the subject as much for him as for Gage. "The point is, do what you gotta do to get your head right but don't go off the deep end. Do the face thing, put someone's face on the silhouette." He stepped away from the wall to look over the fox's shoulder and his brow shot up. "From the look of this poor bastard, you probably already are, eh? Yeah, you got someone up there. Who is it? One of those Siren masks? Dianus?"

No answer.

"Hellion?"

Gage's last shot couldn't drown out the word. His twitch caused the laser to streak high and to the left, leaving a solitary hole a few inches from the head. He and Falco both stared at the hole in silence, the fox's expression strained but still enigmatic and the avian's frozen in the wide-eyed regret of a man wishing he kept his trap shut.

But Gage didn't collapse or fling into rage or do anything any more violent than gently slide the SEC-29 into his holster and take a deep breath. With the same ease and deliberation of a man on a weekend walk, he headed back to the weapon lockers and punched in his security code at the shotgun cabinet. Carefully tugging a tactical shotgun free of its moorings, he picked up a single shell from one of the ammo boxes, slid it into the chamber, and pumped the gun. Resting the barrel on top of his shoulder, he strode back toward the range, planted his left hand on the table to vault over it, and kept going until he was practically face-to-shattered-face with the silhouette. Without a moment's hesitation, he leveled the shotgun at the chest with one hand and fired point-blank. The thunder deafened Falco as he winced and watched the paper silhouette explode into confetti and rain down on the floor like a charred blizzard.

Gage turned, vaulted over the table again, and threw the shotgun to the floor with a heavy clatter before continuing straight out the door.

"Right," Falco sighed aloud to the emptiness. "Glad we had this little talk."

-

* * *

_Four hours later_

_-  
_

"Wow, look at that."

Fox, lost in thought at the commander's chair on the INH bridge, looked up and followed Falco's stare toward the left-most window. Bolse slowly passed by on the port side, a dozen military ships lingering around different sections, the massive Venomian cannon lying dormant and helpless. The station itself had suffered some damage when its power overloaded but the naval engineers swooped in as soon as they could to stabilize it and salvage what they could.

"I don't like the thought of anyone being in control of that beast," Fox said. "Not even the LDC. Too bad it didn't just blow when it overloaded."

Peppy nodded from where he stood at the navigation station, admiring how Robin juggled half a dozen different tasks at once…not including the different INH systems her neural network was remotely interfaced with. "It's a double-edged sword. Anything so powerful is dangerous when there are those looking to gain from it. On the other hand, if a sizeable threat were to surface again it could prove invaluable."

"I don't like it," Falco grumbled. "Why can't no one ever stand a good head-to-head fight anymore? Why's everyone always trying to find ways to wimp out and kill from long distances? Puttin' cannons like that around space is just one more way for jackasses without skill to hide from guys like me."

"They may hide, but they're not invincible. Just look at what happened to Bolse."

"Yeah, and Arwings could run circles around that thing, but look what it did to the Great Fox. And what if they post anti-fighter escorts? I'm just saying, it could be trouble in the wrong hands, like our glorious leader said. Right, Fox?"

The response of silence caused the fox's teammates to turn and find him staring ahead into space with unfocused eyes. Falco repeated, "Fox?"

"Hm?"

"You alright?" Peppy asked? "Thinkin' about our little pickup on Venom?"

"Actually, no. I, uh…" Fox cleared his throat and straightened up in his chair, his eyes alert again but his expression no less thoughtful. "I was thinking about the team. How we need a repla…a new recruit for Slippy's job."

Peppy nodded slowly while Falco kept his eyes on Bolse without a word.

"Hard shoes to fill," the hare responded. "Technical genius and loyalty beyond question. The latter is the hardest trait to find. Once we get back to Corneria we'll have to do some hefty searching."

"Yeah, we can't mess with roles too much. Robin can do a lot of what ROB couldn't, but the INH is also a more advanced ship so we're back to square one. We'd be screwed without Toad's guys here to help us out." Fox paused. "But what if we tried to fill another role that Starfox has lacked ever since the beginning? Might let us branch out more on contracts, tackle some of the big ones."

"What role?"

"A dedicated ground tactician and combatant. For times when the Landmaster is just a little less subtle than required."

Peppy chuckled. "I think I see where this is going. Do you seriously want to offer Captain Birse a position with Starfox?"

"What?!" Falco wheeled around, apparently not connecting the dots himself. "Nuh-uh, my vote's a big fat no. He's too much of a boy scout and a pain in the ass to boot. Besides, you're overlooking the fact that he hates mercs. He turned down a huge paycheck from Legion Security, he ain't gonna sign on with us. If ya ask me, that's more a sign he's insane than him shooting off a couple hundred clips and giving us the cold shoulder."

"He's right, Fox, at least in essence. Gage lives, breathes, and bleeds Dagger. He's devoted to Corneria and Lylat. He may respect us because we are as well, but that doesn't mean he'll give up his career for a bigger paycheck. Don't get me wrong, I like the boy a lot and respect him also; it'd be great for Starfox if he joined up. But I'd be less surprised to see Krystal join than Gage."

Fox sighed and strummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. "I know it's a longshot, just tossing the idea around in my head. This trip has me thinking about a few things. You know, the future of Starfox, helping out friends, rebuilding the team to make it stronger."

"That's understandable." Peppy leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on his stomach. "And it's natural to think of Gage as already part of the team given the time spent working with him, but the only interest he seemed to ever have in Starfox is mutual respect. Seeing how he thinks about private contractors in general, I'd call that very high praise."

With a growing grin, Fox replied, "Wonder if I can steal Ley away then. She doesn't seem to mind mercs that much."

"Well, then the only interest Gage would have in Starfox is blowing your head off."

The two laughed while Falco rolled his eyes. "I'd rather have her sweet can strutting around here than the boy scout and his—"

"Pardon me, sirs," Robin interrupted from her station. "I have an incoming message from Beltino Toad aboard the Vanguard."

"Put it on the main projector," Fox ordered, swiveling the chair slightly to face it.

After a few seconds, a holo-projection of the old toad's upper body glimmered into existence above the projector embedded in the floor before the commander's chair. His head was bowed, apparently reading something in his hands, but he looked up with a smile and turned his attention to the screen on his end. "Good day, everyone. Fox, I have good news and bad news. The good news is the TDE excavation team will finish securing and transporting your father's Arwing off Venom before the anticipated storm hits the sector. The bad news is, according to the engineers' reports, the Arwing is in no condition to be repaired. The hull and chassis have eroded beyond saving and every internal system would need replacing anyway. We'd be starting from behind if we tried making it flyable again."

"I figured that'd be the case," Fox replied. "I was never really looking to have it repaired anyway."

Beltino paused and took a deep, thoughtful breath before continuing. "Fox, when you asked TDE to retrieve James McCloud's Arwing for you, I was more than willing. Aside from what it means to you, it's a relief to finally find it after so many years of worry that it had fallen into enemy hands. But if you don't plan on keeping it, I have to know exactly what you plan to do with it. It may not be in reparable condition, but the intricacies of the chassis design are still closely-guarded TDE trademarks."

"Fair enough. I want to…well, I guess you can say I want to give it a burial. I couldn't just leave the last remnant of my father on Venom. There's a spot in the south-western hemisphere of Aquas where I want to let it sink into the water. With the depth of that spot, the pressure will destroy it once it sinks low enough. I'll have Robin send you the exact coordinates."

"Sounds reasonable." Beltino narrowed his eyes. "May I ask what's so significant about this location?"

Fox didn't know if he would understand, but an explanation was the least the toad was owed in return for all the help he'd given Starfox. "Some distance north of those coordinates, in the shallower water, there's a place privateers used to call Talon Run. It's named for the rock formations that stick up out of the water; arches and sharp spikes and peaks, that sort of thing. Hundreds of them. It's where my father taught me maneuvering during holidays away from the Academy. I learned most of what I know there, and those days were some of the best of my life. Since I was never able to bury my father properly, seemed to me I could at least bury his Arwing at a place that means something. Better than letting it rot on Venom."

"I see." Beltino hesitated, his eyes unreadable behind the holographic distortion. "I suppose in a way that's why I was so eager to send a salvage team to Venom in the first place. Once the Arwing is safely aboard your ship, work will begin on the destroyed Great Fox, as we agreed. It doesn't look like much will be in good condition there either, but…I won't let Venom be my son's grave." He cleared his throat. "Well, if that's all, I have some business to take care of here on the Vanguard. Expect a call from my foreman soon, and I'll be in touch over the next few days regarding the Great Fox work. Anything that can be saved will be forwarded on to you. It seems the next time we see each other will be on Corneria for my son's ceremony."

"Starfox is in your debt. I don't know if we would've lasted out here without your support."

"It was my pleasure." Beltino reached forward to flick the screen on his side off. "Take care of that vessel and her crew, my little Robin. And all of you…please, finally, give the ship the honor of a proper name. A name – or lack thereof – says a lot not only about the ship, but about its caretakers."

The projection flickered into nothing, its glow lingering and gone in the blink of an eye.

-

* * *

-

Gage entered the Vanguard's fore comm's hub, a gymnasium-sized room with rows of communication terminals stretching from end to end. A raised platform in the middle held the four ranking technicians, who oversaw the functioning of all incoming and outgoing traffic, as well as encryption and decryption, from their workstations. Gage remembered seeing the station back when he had his tour of the ship, and just one look at the chaos they had to deal with on the holoscreens hurt his head. The comm's hub looked no calmer than usual, especially since some of the terminals were in the midst of being ripped up and repaired from damage they suffered in the battle. With whatever load they usually handled being dumped on the remaining techs, it was no wonder not a single person deviated their attention for even a moment when he walked in.

"Captain!" Admiral McGarret waved from the second row over, near the ramp leading up to the platform.

Gage headed over while the admiral finished relaying whatever messages and orders were being read from the datapad in his hand. After a minute or two, he told the technician to begin encryption and stand by, then turned to face the fox.

"As you can see, Captain Birse, wars don't end when the last shot is fired. The LDC is clinging to me like sand up a Venomian's ass, and they're burying me in paperwork and reconstruction until they figure out how they want to spin this battle to the public. I don't care; let them. We can all walk away proud."

When he didn't continue immediately, Gage said, "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Just a few developments that relate to Dagger. The first should be no surprise: all operations carried out while assigned to the Vanguard are classified under level five security, with all CASOC non-disclosure regulations applied. Dagger may be semi-known to the public, but the LDC and CASOC both want to keep you in the shadows. I have to say, I agree; Dagger is one of Corneria's greatest weapons, no sense drawing any more attention to you than necessary." He hesitated. "No medals will be issued. As far as Lylat will be concerned, Artemis Tower was a marine operation and all other missions are locked away. But as far as I'm concerned, Dagger earned more medals and ribbons in the past two weeks than most soldiers do in their lives."

"Thank you, sir. We don't do it for medals."

"I know. That's why I haven't been looking forward to letting you all go, but the LDC's trimming unnecessary personnel. Contractors, specialists, and of course, Dagger. Your team is overworked, down two men, and more than due for a trip home. It's been a true honor, Captain, but we part ways once the LDC gives me the word that they have no more questions for your team. You've been assigned to a TDE transport for the ride home, ostensibly as an escort. But really, Toad and I just agreed that your team deserved a comfortable trip in one of his fancy ships. Understood, captain?"

Gage's eyes narrowed. "Sir, my team's not done here. Hellion couldn't have escaped that easy. No one was able to pick up their trail?"

McGarret opened his mouth to answer, but sighed heavily and licked his lips. After a short, uncomfortable silence, he said, "We know where they are. They slipped through our sensors sometime before or during the battle but a patrol near Solar picked them up near Fortuna. They lost them, but yesterday a Toad Development Enterprises freighter on its way home from here vanished near one of the patrol's estimated locations. Local scans picked up ion trails that match the Hellraiser's output."

"My team can be ready in ten minutes."

The old wolf shook his head. "Birse, Dagger's off active status for the time being. You have two men incapacitated, two others recovering from injuries, and a captain who…I'm sorry, but you're emotionally compromised regarding Hellion. You should be the first person to recognize that. Judging from Hellion's MO, some of that freighter crew could still be held as hostages and in the wake of this costly battle, the LDC doesn't want screw-ups."

Gage's eyes darkened with anger and his voice gained fervor. "So that's it then? Hellion had just as much a part in this as Dianus and we just let them walk away to start a new killing spree?"

"A dozen Katinian recon vessels are keeping watch over the entire area. If Hellion moves an inch, we'll know. Titania is sending its Sigil team to handle a possible operation."

"Sigil?! They'll be ripped to shreds along with the hostages! Hellion will have a goddamn party toying around with them! They have no experience against Hellion, they don't know them like I do."

McGarret's jaw set and his own eyes matched the captain's. "Captain, you're forgetting yourself. I don't like this either, but Dagger's in no condition to go after them. Sigil will—"

"Sigil will fail, the hostages will die, and Hellion will slip away like they always do! The next time we see Hellion, it'll be after they've already killed another hundred or thousand soldiers or police or civvies! It has to end now!"

"I share your frustration, captain, but for once I agree with the LDC's decision. You're still part of the Vanguard battlegroup, and Hellion is not the Vanguard battlegroup's assignment. Trust me, ever since those little bastards invaded this ship I've wanted to turn them into dust, but as a soldier and as a commander, I have to rein in my personal feelings and see to my crew's recovery. If that means someone else takes down Hellion, then so be it."

Gage's eyes blazed, his fists trembling, his voice low but rumbling in restraint. "Sir, I assure you, me, Tien, and Ley are willing and able to do this. We've been waiting to finish this for years. We've seen too many friends and innocents die from Hellion, and we won't let them get away so it can happen again."

"They won't, captain. The Katinian recon ships will keep the area under surveillance at all times while—"

McGarret flinched back as the fox's fist came down hard on the console beside them, caving in part of the instrument panel with a loud crack and a burst of sparks that sent the nearby technician fumbling back to the floor.

"That's not good enough!"

The entire room fell silent, the damaged console crackling and smoking. Gage's fist came away bloody but he didn't notice at all.

"They evade the military; that's what they _do_! They kill, and then they slip away! If they get away again, that's just one more victory to boost their egos, one more bit of proof that they can push Lylat around and no one is able to take them down! You all want to send Sigil team to get slaughtered? You all want to keep a few scanners on them and hope they don't vanish like always? Fine. You go and tell those every fucking moron that made this call that the next time a thousand dead families are pasted on the news, the blood's on their goddamn hands!"

His words echoing in the large room, Gage turned and stormed to the door, his fist dripping blood the entire way. All eyes lingered on McGarret for a few minutes before awkwardly returning to work, the subtle buzz of keystrokes and voices rising once more. The wolf stared after Gage and, with a disappointed breath through his nose, turned back to the technician whose console had been assaulted.

"Call a tech, private, and relocate to a different station. I'm not done here yet."

"Yes, sir." The young canine private glanced incredulously at the hole in his console, then at the trail of blood leading away. "Should I call a medic for Captain Birse?"

"He can take care of himself. That little scrape is the least of the wounds he has to deal with."

As the private knelt and began downloading his data from the backup data bank beneath the terminal, he gave a hesitant look up and said, "I don't think I've ever heard anyone go off like that, sir. Not to an admiral anyway."

"If anyone's earned the right to a little outrage, it's him." McGarret turned away from the door, pushing any concern behind his more pressing priorities. "Besides, I'd rather it happen here than with hostages standing between his gun and the enemy. The rulebook can take a few shots, they can't."

-

* * *

-

Fox stood in the INH's hangar near the Landmaster bay, his foot tapping an excited rhythm on the smooth metal floor, barely aware of his team standing behind him…barely aware of anything except the cargo shuttle on its landing course. The bright white TDE vessel eased toward the protective energy shield keeping the vacuum of space at bay, its navigational thrusters spitting every few seconds to affect its course. Like a bird with its talons clutching prey twice its size, the transport's belly clamps held a large shipping container, its TDE-white complexion marred by only a brief time on Venom's surface.

_"Final security checks cleared," _Robin's voice reported from the intercom. _"Cargo to be positioned at launch run two. All personnel stand clear to avoid unnecessary injury or death."_

The vessel broke the energy barrier, a thin blue line of luminescence circling the width of the ship from nose to tail as it passed. All at once, the deafening engine noise that space had consumed roared to its fullest and slowly died, the engines whining down and reverting to landing repulsors. The crate hit the deck first with a heavy thud and the clamps released, allowing the transport to yaw and land beside it at Arwing launch run three. With only echoes of the landing cacophony remaining, a team of six loaders and three engineers descended the shuttle's ramp, one of them waving their hosts over.

"Mister McCloud?" A tall ape in a dusty white suit stepped away from the ship while his workers headed for the container. He extended his hand and Fox shook it. "I'm the TDE expeditionary foreman for this retrieval, name's Hodges. Where do you want it?"

"You can leave it there, in the empty Arwing launch path. We won't be holding onto it for long."

"Righty-O then." Hodges looked over his shoulder and twirled his finger in the air above his head. The loaders that had taken up positions around the crate seemed to recognize the signal and began synchronizing the release mechanisms on each side. "I have to warn you, Mister McCloud, I reported to Mister Toad that the Arwing is little more than a shell, and a pretty torn-up one at that. It's been on that rock for years and the Venomian climate isn't well known for treating the surface kindly. Internals are totaled, the hull's been eaten up—"

"I know," Fox interrupted. "Beltino already told me. I'm not looking to repair it."

Hodges' brow wrinkled in confusion, but he only shrugged in response. "None of my business." He produced a datapad from his jacket pocket and muttered as he tapped at certain areas of the screen. "Let's see, delivery arrived safely at…what time is it, let's see here…fourteen-twelve local…recipient, Fox McCloud. Foreman on site, attests delivery safety, yadda yadda…salvage work, delivery bonus, hazardous environment bonus, unstable region bonus…least we made a nice bunch of creds on this one. Almost worth going down on that frickin' planet to begin with."

A loud shout from the container area echoed through the hangar. "Deck clear! Engaging!"

"Here we go. Cover up." Hodges clenched his eyes and mouth shut and covered his ears with his hands. Fox and his team followed suit, but he kept his eyes open to slits, wanting to see the Arwing as soon as possible.

The green lights at the four upper corners of the container blinked red and the four sides separated, blossoming open along with the roof like a steel flower and falling to the deck with a thunderous impact that rumbled in Fox's ears even past his hands. A cloud of sand burst from the opened container, billowing out and coating a hundred feet all around it in a fine layer of parched dust. Fox had to shut his eyes when the dry heat swept over him but opened them a moment later.

There she was, covered in Venomian residue, but home again after so many years.

"Venom's a bitch like that," Hodges said when the dust had settled, wiping smoky puffs from his white sleeves. "You finally leave the planet, but it gets you one more time out of spite. You may want to blow out the hangar once we're done here."

Fox barely heard him; as the loaders retrieved equipment from the transport to rebuild the container, his eyes stayed glued to the rusted, ravaged Arwing, hunched over on broken skids with one wing mangled beyond recognition. Its scorched hull looked even more faded and wrecked than he remembered; maybe the Venomian backdrop didn't make it look so bad back when he first saw it. But at home sitting near its functioning twins, it looked like Venom had chewed it up and spat it back out. Even Fox's own beaten-up Arwing, mounted in the repair bay only a stone's throw away, would fully recuperate with enough work. James McCloud's fighter, a shell of the proud form it used to be, seemed both comfortable and shamed in the presence of its siblings.

"If you'll just review and sign this work order, we'll load up and be on our way." Hodges thrust the datapad in Fox's direction.

"Hang on. Just…give me a minute alone."

Fox slowly walked forward, his boots crunching on the thin layer of sand. He could almost feel Venom's heat still trapped in the metal as he neared to arm's-length and looked the fighter up and down. The hull had suffered such scarring and so much sand had been caked and burned onto the metal that only a few small spots still boasted any semblance of the original silver finish. But all the disfigurement in the galaxy couldn't hide what he remembered the craft to look like in its prime, especially with his father in the cockpit.

As scattered memories rose and fell in his mind, Fox ducked under the remains of the blue starboard weapon capacitor and placed his hands on the rough metal where the hull met the shattered canopy. He brushed at the baked sand with his palms, then scratched at it with his fingers, clawing off flakes and chunks.

* * *

_"They gave us a rundown of first-year craft studies at Academy orientation yesterday. It's all so boring; why should I even go to the Academy when I have you teaching me to fly in a goddamn __Arwing? This thing can wipe the floor with any ship in existence."_

_"First, watch the language._

_"Dad—"_

_"My hangar, my rules. Second, the Academy teaches more than just flying. Stick with it. Any prospective Starfox member is required to have graduated from an accredited Lylatian military flight program, and that includes family. Instinct will only take you so far. Besides, your mastery of this," James tapped his head, "is just as important as your mastery of flight. Your hands guide the fighter, your mind guides the hands, and both knowledge and instinct guide the mind. To be at your best, you need both."_

* * *

The indignant sand and soot held tight, as if resisting Fox's claim to the fighter Venom had conquered. He brought his elbow up and slammed it down on the hull, causing the entire weakened frame to shudder and shake loose more sand. Again and again he struck the rust-brown coating, more shedding off with each attack.

* * *

_"When can I take an Arwing out to Talon Run? You said you'd take me there to let me try some serious flying."_

_"And I will, but what was our deal?"_

_"I know, I know. At least ninety-eighth percentile in my Advanced Combat Maneuvers exam. But that test isn't until second year, and even then only for the highest grades!"_

_"Fox, don't be so quick to skip ahead. Enjoy the Academy; things only get harder from here. Seeing you in that uniform…really brings back the memories."_

_"I bet you'd impress some of your old instructors. I mean, exclusive rights for Arwings and all."_

_James chuckled. "People may think 'Arwing' whenever they think 'Starfox,' but these fighters aren't what make Starfox special. They're certainly not our main advantage."_

_"Eh?"_

_"Come here. See this?" James tapped the starboard hull just beneath the canopy, where the red vulpine emblem of the mercenary group had been painted. "That's what makes us different and special. That's our advantage. A fighter is just a fighter, no matter how much top secret TDE tech is shoved inside. The guy who flies it, and the reason why he flies it, that's what's really behind success. Starfox was created with specific values, specific boundaries that most mercenaries never examine before they start taking jobs to kill. And before they know it, they're just guns with a man attached, murderers for money. Starfox will never be that way. I've explained this before, right?"_

_Fox nodded, thinking twice at giving a smart-ass answer on the dozens of times he'd heard it._

_"You remember what I said: hands guide the fighter, the mind guides the hands, instinct and knowledge guide the mind. Well this," he tapped the emblem once, hard, "this guides everything."_

* * *

One final blow cracked the layer of sand, allowing Fox's fingers to dig under it and scrape the rest away. Hesitantly brought back into the light, the paint faded and chipped and barely recognizable to anyone but those looking for it, was the Starfox emblem that his father had considered more important than the craft it adorned. Fox stared at it and lost track of time, envisioning it as if his father was standing beside him again with his finger on it.

When a hand rested on his shoulder, he didn't have to turn to know it belonged to Peppy.

"That makes it look much better," the hare said in a near whisper.

Fox nodded slowly. "Hard to believe this thing's last flight was to save my life. When Andross' base was going up and dad appeared to guide me out…I didn't know what to think. I even thought I was already dead and seeing a ghost. I didn't react immediately when he told me to follow, but then I saw this emblem and it snapped me back into action. I followed it all the way out, and then he disappeared, damaged, to crash back to Venom. At least, that's what dad's datapad said, the one I found before the Great Fox was destroyed. I guess I can believe him when it comes to that part." He paused. "I don't know what to think about dad. He saved my life and he tried to cripple Venom's war machine, but…"

"You can't forgive the betrayal?"

Fox glanced over his shoulder at his mentor's face, but his expression seemed as torn as his own thoughts, neither fully resentful of James nor fully supportive of him. "Let me ask you: you've been with your wife a long time. If you found out Anna had cheated on you with a terrible person, lied about it, tried to hide it, but then later ended it and tried like hell to redeem herself to you…what would you feel? You may still love her. You may want to try and make things work, you may even forgive her. But can you ever truly look at her again without thinking of what she did? Could it ever be the same?"

Peppy remained silent for nearly a minute before responding, "I doubt it."

"And dad never came back. He fought Venom, he saved my life, but he hid away. Didn't even have the guts to come back to me and face me."

Peppy stepped forward and ran his hand along the rough surface of the ruined wing and ground the residue on his glove between his thumb and forefinger. "I can't defend or condemn James because I don't know exactly what was going through his head. But I can suspect that he felt about the same way this Arwing looks. Someday you'll have children, and you'll make mistakes, some greater than others. As a father, I can tell you that we want the best for our children and when we fail at that, it feels worse than any failure we could suffer in Starfox or war or business. I've found it immensely difficult to face my own son when I know I could've done better by him, but me and Everett make it work. If I had done what James did, I'd probably rather have died when this Arwing crashed than live to face the son I wronged."

Fox looked at him and then back at the fighter. "So many things I wish I could ask him, but I'll never have the chance. But at least this time I can say goodbye for real, knowing the truth. After dying on Venom and having such a stuffy service back in that cramped ceremony hall on Corneria, I think he'd appreciate having his Arwing laid to rest at Talon Run. He always loved flying there. We both did."

"He'd love it." Daring a smile, Peppy added, "He was a pretty sentimental man. But this time, I agree with it. After all the turmoil Starfox has dealt with recently, it's about time we let something finally rest in peace."

-

* * *

-

Beltino Toad stepped aboard his luxury cruiser, two fingers pulling his tie knot looser around his neck. He trod the burgundy carpeted corridor toward the aft of the ship and didn't even blink twice when the door to his study slid open and revealed company. Gage looked out of place amongst the embroidered tapestries and cherry wood bookcases, sitting on a supple leather chair in his black and gray combat uniform. The door of the wall-enclosed refrigerator near the desk rested ajar, one of its residential slender-neck bottles clutched in the fox's hand.

With a sigh, Beltino walked to the refrigerator and nudged it closed, the paneling again hiding it seamlessly to all except the trained senses of special operatives. "If you're going to help yourself to my six-hundred credit chardonnay, could you at least put it in a glass and pretend you appreciate the vintage?"

Gage leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and turned the bottle around and around thoughtfully on his palm. "Relax, I just took one gulp. Tastes like piss. Besides, I'm not the 'drinking to get drunk' kind."

"Well, thank you for adding to the distinctive Cornerian flavor with your backwash." The toad took the bottle from his hands and let his eyes linger on the bandage wrapped around the left. He placed the bottle on the desk and settled into the identical leather chair across from the other. "I heard about your little explosion with Admiral McGarret. Your Sergeant Ley said you were looking for me, and that you were none too happy about my suggestion that you return to Corneria as my escort. I must admit, with the way you've been acting, I half expected to come back here to a knife in my neck."

Gage scoffed under his breath. "You think I'm crazy too, huh?"

"Not at all. Everyone has their own way of grieving. When Slippy died, I went down to one of my maintenance hangars, put on some coveralls, and started working on machine parts myself side by side with the low-tier laborers. Got quite a few looks and notes of concern from my corporate busybodies. But I'm rich enough to be called eccentric rather than crazy. And within a couple days, I felt comfortable returning to my normal self. If you need to shoot a thousand clips in a range and be by yourself for a bit, nothing odd about that. People may say they're concerned, but I think what they're really concerned about is whether you've changed."

"Changed how?"

Beltino shrugged. "Judging from your record and what your team thinks of you, you were never one to act on emotion in a professional situation. I could certainly understand you being upset that Hellion is beyond your reach right now, but…" He gestured toward the fox's injured hand. "How much of that was for your lady friend rather than the endangered civilians?"

Gage flexed the hand and scowled. "What, you think I'd endanger civilian lives so I can get revenge on Hellion for what they did to Fara? I may be grieving, I may be pissed as hell, I may be a little on edge, but I'm still Dagger."

"Fair enough."

But the captain hadn't finished. "Look, Hellion declared war on Dagger when they started targeting my team and killing civilians on our watch. They declared war on _me_ when they targeted Fara. But it's all the same; Ares and Eris are rabid animals and when they're through with Dagger, they'll go after someone else and more innocent people will die, more lives ruined. But Dagger never fights a war it's not determined to win. We have the most experience against Hellion; we could end it. If they get away, God knows when we'll see them again, and God knows how many bodies they'll leave as a welcome mat."

"Quite so, quite so." Beltino crossed his legs and strummed his fingers across his knee. "Well, you're speaking again and you're not shooting up targets or putting your fist through machinery, so perhaps you're still the same old Gage who just needed time to himself." He paused. "Or maybe you were just finally able to mask your thirst for vengeance against Fara's attackers. Perhaps it's still lurking underneath your professional Dagger surface and noble words, driving your motivations. Perhaps you've changed. Or perhaps you haven't. I doubt if even you know for sure."

For the first time since Beltino had walked in, Gage looked up and their eyes locked. He didn't have a good answer. "I want to know why you suggested to McGarret that I escort your ships back to Corneria. You know damn well how important it is to take down Hellion; why didn't you push for that? What happened to all your 'do what's necessary' speeches? I was there when Bolse first fired; Hellion has just as much to do with Slippy's death as Dianus."

The old toad strummed his fingers a few more times then stood and walked to his desk. He sat, reached into a cubby beneath the drawers, and retrieved a half-empty bottle of sherry along with a sparkling crystal glass. He took his time pouring the amber liquid and slicked away a few drops from the neck with his finger when he finished. Once the bottle was corked and replaced, he took a first, savory sip and leaned back with a long exhale.

"I would like to do all I could to ensure Hellion's demise," he said. "But what can an old corporate pencil-pusher do to convince a strained LDC? I doubt they'd even give me the time of day, even though it was one of my own transports filled with a dozen of my own workers that was captured by Hellion near Fortuna. As McGarret apparently told you, Hellion's trail went cold near Solar. If a helpless TDE freighter hadn't been passing by to be nabbed by the ever-zealous Ares and Eris, we may have lost them completely. Instead, we now know exactly where they are."

"You don't seem too broken up that your workers are as good as dead in Hellion's hands."

Beltino drew another sip. "It's unfortunate and undesirable, of course, but at least it appears that the freighter's sparse crew was comprised of…let's just say, lower-priority individuals. Four are almost sixty-five years old, three have chronic illnesses that greatly lower their life expectancy, one is a known embezzler, and the last four showed signs of social aggression on their employee psychological evaluations. None have children and only three are married." He gently nudged the glass stem around, making the sherry swirl. "It's almost as if someone picked them for their lower social and emotional significance rather than their ability to crew a freighter."

Gage narrowed his eyes and the fur on the back of his neck bristled. "Did you…are you telling me you sent an oblivious crew of your own employees to bait out Hellion?"

"I said no such thing." The toad grinned. "Any inferences you gather are your own. Though, allow me to say that I _never_ lost my devotion to do whatever is necessary."

The Dagger captain stood and stepped to Beltino's desk, his jaw set. He leaned over and planted his palms on the solid wood. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't report this to McGarret."

Beltino nodded with raised eyebrows, sardonically amused by the question. "Because then I and my ships wouldn't be able to leave on time. You wouldn't be able to escort the Paladin transport, as I've arranged. You wouldn't be able to use the code I've sent to your personal network to download every bit of intelligence my satellites have siphoned from the reconnaissance vessels watching Fortuna. You wouldn't be able to non-lethally hijack the transport and steal the Paladin armor when you near Fortuna. And, most importantly, you wouldn't be able to use it in your quest to destroy Hellion once and for all." He let out a huff, as if shocked. "That's a lot to give up for the sake of self-righteous honesty."

Gage kept looming over the desk, everything that was said rolling over and over in his mind. After a minute of silence, he asked, "Just like that, you want me to throw my career away while you look like the victim?"

"I can hardly continue to help the LDC and allied militaries if I'm behind bars."

"And I can't help protect Lylat if I'm court martialed."

Beltino sipped again and leaned forward on his elbows, nearer to his guest. "And just how good a protector are you to begin with if your superiors constantly allow mass-murderers like Hellion to slip away from you? Answer me honestly, captain. Why did you join Dagger?"

"I saw chaos and I wanted to stop it. I saw people dying and I wanted to stop it."

"It seems Hellion has the opposite values. Wouldn't it be living up to Dagger's highest ideals to squash them before they can do more damage, despite what LDC's bureaucrats think?"

Gage hesitated but answered on instinct. "Yes. But it's not that simple. If Hellion has hostages, I can't save them and kill Ares and Eris. It's always been one or the other. That's how they escape."

"I know. I know all too well." Beltino sighed and leaned back. "It seems that if this freighter crew were to die, it would be a worthy sacrifice for ending one of Lylat's greatest threats."

"You're unbelievable. Fuck that, I draw the line there. I'm not willingly letting hostages die just so—"

"Just so what?!" the toad snapped, hopping to his feet and glaring forward. "Just so you can prevent future murders? Let's face facts, Captain Birse, you are a _failure_." He leaned forward again to make sure the word stuck. "A failure. If you had ignored those hostages on Artemis Thirteen and killed Hellion, how many hundreds of future lives would you have saved? If you had been far-sighted enough to let a few die so that many more may live, Hellion would not be a problem. This is how Hellion needs to be confronted. They thrive because they know they can manipulate your quaint military honor, your code of ethics, your refusal to allow innocents to die. It's time to wake up, Captain Birse. The only way to defeat Hellion is to be strong enough to shoulder the burden of a little necessary evil."

Gage remained silent.

"Do not waste my time, resources, and confidence if you plan to try saving my employees. If you confront Hellion on Fortuna, it's…as you said… a war. You must let the hostages die in order to prevent Hellion's escape with a surprise blitz. It's the only way."

Gage frowned and shook his head. "If I do that, they win. They kill and terrorize to prove no ethics or 'quaint' honor can beat them. If I willingly let hostages die, they win."

"Do you think the hundreds of people they kill care about that? Who wins when they murder the next crowd of civilians? Us because of our 'honor?' There's a time for diplomacy, a time for honor, a time for stealth and subtlety…and there's a time to rip the tumor away and deal with the wound later."

The fox turned away, deep in thought, every Dagger instinct blaring red and telling him to walk out. But another instinct clashed with it, the same devoted instinct that drove him into the special forces to begin with, an instinct that couldn't deny the truth of the words put forth no matter how sick they made him feel. The yoke of procedure and ethics had allowed Hellion to continue their killing over the years. Could he truly deny Dagger's core values to kill Hellion? Could he ever come back from that brink if he did?

But then Beltino interrupted his ruminations with an utterance that froze him cold. "What about Fara?"

Gage turned back to face him.

"I have no doubt she would have died from those nanites if she hadn't died on Venom," Toad continued. "And those nanites kept her isolated away from you, kept you from protecting her and being with her when she needed you. She died alone and afraid because of Hellion, and they're probably laughing up a riot because of it, mostly because you unwittingly activated the nanites yourself…doing your job as an 'honorable' Dagger soldier. I'm not asking you to do this because of emotions." He hid a grin. "Perish the thought. But shouldn't Hellion be punished? Shouldn't they die before they can do this to other women, or before they cause others to die before you? Like pretty little Sergeant Ley and your other teammates, the only family you truly have? Wouldn't Fara want her killers dealt with?"

Gage glared back, his mouth twisting in anger. "What the hell are you trying to do, provoke me?"

"I'm not telling you anything you don't already know deep inside, or maybe not so deep. Hearing words out loud often brings feelings to light. But I apologize if I was wrong; perhaps you're mentally at peace." He nodded at Gage's bandaged fist. "By the way, your hand's bleeding; you shouldn't clench your fingers so tight. And I'd see a medic about that sudden trembling."

The Dagger captain looked down at the red stain lurking beneath the bandage then shot a glare at Beltino, who had settled back down and taken to his sherry again. With a disgusted snort, he headed for the door but only made it partway out before gripping the doorframe with his left hand and halting. He brought the injured hand to his face and covered his eyes, standing stone-still in deep thought and internal strife until he lost track of time. Beltino sat patient and relaxed and at some point, the bottle came out again and the gentle pop of the cork sounded through the cabin.

"Just out of curiosity," Gage finally said. "What about my team?"

"They'll be dispersed amongst my other transports; this job is for you only. They won't know anything until it's already over. But that doesn't mean you won't have help."

The fox looked over his shoulder expectantly.

"You've met a CDIA agent named Laren, correct? I've known about him for quite some time, that he was keeping an eye on me and acting as an employee. Once I discovered his past and his significant loathing for Hellion, I approached him. He's one of the hostages down there."

"How? He told me he was undercover with Hellion at one point a while ago. They'd recognize him."

"That's the idea." Beltino sniffed the fresh glass of sherry. "He said from what he learned about their methods, they'll want him secured and they won't kill him immediately. No fun that way. So, more than likely, they'll keep him within sight to watch him and toy with him. He was more than willing to put himself in that situation and even sacrifice his life if it meant someone could kill Hellion. He'll help you. How, I'm not sure, but he seemed confident. He also initially resisted ignoring hostages, but he knows more than anyone about necessity and he agreed promptly." He took a sip. "He was impressed with your performance on Macbeth and was confident you would be willing to go after Hellion, despite the cost. I believe he seemed satisfied with the idea of you killing them rather than him, so long as he could help. He was willing to do what was necessary based on the confidence that you would too, Captain Birse."

Gage frowned. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

"It's compromising information; I had to be sure you were on board with this operation."

"What makes you think I'm on board?"

Beltino gestured at the cabin exit where the fox teetered between in and out. "Because you stopped at that door and I know you won't allow yourself to keep walking away."

Gage tentatively stepped back into the room, his face a somber stone mask. When he spoke his voice resonated deep, muffled with the internal protests of his uncertainties. "I'll be on the ship. What about the Paladin neural failsafe? The syringes you keep with yourself?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I can't give you that. Can't have a rogue soldier running around with top-secret technology I keep on my person; hard to explain away. Besides, one syringe was lost already in the chaos of the battle. If I can't find it by the time the Paladin reaches Corneria, I'll have to destroy the remainders and code a new neural release injection. I reported to Vanguard security that the last time I saw it was just before I stumbled and fell on the Paladin transport vessel, somewhere around the bulkhead nook near the starboard seating row, beneath the last seat. But…" He gave a long, dramatic sigh. "I can't seem to find it."

Gage nodded in understanding and narrowed his eyes in thought. After a few moments, he spoke his thoughts aloud. "You knew this entire time that McGarret wouldn't let me take experimental tech to the battle on Macbeth, didn't you? You showed me the Paladin in great detail, you uploaded the operations manual to my network 'just in case,' you explained the neural lock…so this is the real reason you brought the Paladin to the Vanguard, isn't it?"

Beltino grinned. "I knew about you from the moment you walked into my station, Captain Birse. I make it my business to know my guests. I knew about you and Hellion. And I knew Hellion's tendency to escape. Like you, I believe this war doesn't end with Dianus; Hellion must be dealt with. My foresighted assumptions are rarely proven wrong. That's why I built the Paladin to begin with, for those modern knights willing to face Lylat's own dragons."

"With you controlling and sacrificing people like some sick game of chess."

"A player loses far more of his chess pieces when he is not bold enough to implement a resolved strategy. I save lives, captain, but the way I do it is far less dramatic than a Dagger mission. When I succeed, the lives that are saved never know they were in danger to begin with." The toad sipped long from the sherry, his face softening a bit and his tone matching the drop in intensity. "I'm not a cold man, Captain Birse. I feel the chill of my actions, but if we let the chill stop us from necessary action, we freeze to death. I think you know I'm not an evil person. Maybe that's why you resent me; I do wrong by you, yet you can't justify opposing my reasons."

Gage folded his arms. "I said I'll do it; I don't care about your reasons or manipulations. I'm doing it to end Hellion and make them pay for what they've done."

"To Fara?"

The fox's glare intensified. "To Lylat."

"Of course, of course. Whatever your motivation, you'll be doing a good thing. But when you stand before them and look into their crazed eyes, you'll know the real reason why you're there, I believe." Beltino nodded curtly in farewell. "You'll find any data you need in your secure network. I suggest you study all you can."

-

Gage stormed away from Beltino's personal ship, barely aware of his surroundings, turmoil eating at him inside. What he had agreed to seemed surreal, a breach of everything he lived for, yet the prospect of killing Hellion managed to trump any desperate plea his mind could think to change his course. His rapid steps on the metal hangar floor echoed his intense heartbeat, his mind trying to contain the war of feelings battling over control of his intentions.

He never saw Ley coming.

The black- and gray-clad leopardess shot out from behind a shipping container as he passed, knocking him against another crate, and she stood before him with clenched fists, eyes ablaze with fury.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Gage snapped, rubbing his shoulder where it impacted the crate.

"Me?" Ley stepped forward and shoved him in the chest. "What the hell's wrong with you? I know you've been acting funny, but this…"

"This what? Why are you here?"

Ley sighed with a heavy rumble and paced back and forth before her captain, her eyes never leaving his. "I don't trust Toad, and when he went off to meet with you I followed. I heard the whole thing. Stayed out of sight, stealth, recon…you know, the things I was put on Dagger to do? Dagger? Our team? The team you're supposed to be the damn captain of?"

"What are you—?"

"I knew Toad would be up to something after helping the Vanguard. No corporation head is that charitable. I expect him to think of workers as a means to an end. But you…I couldn't believe it. Are you insane? Have you forgotten everything this," she slapped the Dagger insignia patch on his arm, "stands for? We_ never_ leave hostages to die if we have even the slightest chance to save them."

"Do we have the slightest chance?" Gage snapped back. "Have we ever had a chance with Hellion? They always manage to kill hostages. Even when we seemingly save hostages, they always…" His breath caught for a moment at remembering Fara's collapse when the nanites activated. "…always get at least one. I can end the cycle once and for all."

"You were spot-on the first time in there; if you ignore hostages, you prove Hellion right. You betray Dagger. You turn into nothing more than Hellion's enemies, no code, no boundaries, just another enemy with an agenda. You turn your back on me, on Del, on Tien and Braddock, on the name Dagger…everything you ever symbolized to me since we crawled through the cold mud together at Fort Fenris training."

Gage had rarely seen the sergeant as angered as that moment, and never at him. No playful chastises, no quips, no annoyed comments…just disappointed anger. "Ley, I want to keep Dagger out of this. The LDC and CASOC won't be happy about this when it's over."

"Keeping Dagger in or out of it isn't your choice; I'd never go along with this, and neither would the others. Boss, you know all of us would follow you into hell to do what was right, and we've done that plenty over the years. That's what Dagger means. But this isn't right. That wasn't the Captain Birse I know in there agreeing to go rogue and let hostages die to get to Hellion. I want them dead as much as anyone, but not enough to throw away who I am and what Dagger means."

Gage pursed his lips. "So…what, are you gonna go blow the whistle to McGarret?"

"No," the leopardess scoffed. "Who would believe me over Beltino Toad? I'm just hoping I can talk you out of doing this. Don't bullshit me; I know Fara's death has something to do with wanting to kill Hellion. You think Fara would be proud of you letting people die to avenge her? You think she'd want you to abandon what you stand for?"

"This isn't just about that! Why the hell do I even have to explain to you why Hellion needs to be destroyed? You've seen them at their worst. This needs to be done…whatever the cost."

Ley's wrinkled brow loosened and her furious expression melted into something Gage found more akin to sorrow. Resignation, disbelief…she stayed silent for so long, but the face conveyed more than her words could. "Gage…think about what this means. Think about what you're doing, what you agreed to let happen. I'd sooner expect every general in the Cornerian Army to defect to Venom than see you betray Dagger's ideals."

Gage bristled and it was his turn to glare, his voice strengthening. "Sergeant, I'm doing what has to be done. You don't have to understand it, but you're being a little too bold with your captain. I want this matter dropped and I want you and the rest of—"

The fist struck like lightning, pelting the left side of Gage's muzzle and blinding the eye with a flash of pain. He might have seen the punch coming, probably would have been able to block it, if he had ever thought to see it coming from his close friend. He stumbled back against the crate and brought his hand to his face, more from surprise than pain. As he slowly straightened up again, his eyes turning back to the leopardess, he saw her face to be as stern yet deeply pained as he felt. She hid her own surprise behind an expression of newfound anger, but her eyes glistened with threatening tears…something else he had never seen from her.

As she turned from him and strode away, she left him with words laden heavily with her own distressed fury.

"You're not my fucking captain."

-

**_-Chapter 26 Coming Soon-_**


	33. Storm of the Century

[Author's Note: Firstly, apologies if I was slow to responding to anyone over the past week; I'm away from home with limited net access. Fortunately, this chapter was mostly done by time I left and I was able to complete it and get it posted. Fun fact, the fic has broken 300 thousand words. Yeesh. But quantity is only as good as the quality inside, so I hope it's been 300 thousand words well-read for you. Thanks for reading everyone and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 26  
Storm of the Century  
_McMarthen, Boreas Sector, Fortuna_  
_1422 hours local_

-

_UPDATE! Contact -2.2 hours. Katina reconnaissance vessel Watchdog through TDE special purpose satellite array filter. Firewall breach, alerts negative. Update added to situational awareness notification, Paladin HUD software suite. Message follows:_

_ Longbow, Watchdog has just released a travel and weather advisory for the entire Boreas sector of Fortuna. A snowstorm has descended upon the metropolitan areas far south, but your target should still be affected by the storm's outer rim. Engage accordingly. Local news is already calling it one of the worst storms in decades for the Boreas sector. How fitting._

_ ETA two hours. Updates to follow should information become available. Good luck, Longbow. You made the right decision._

-

It had been a long time since Laren felt cold.

There was the chill of fear emanating from the hostages as they were all bound, blindfolded, and taken from the TDE freighter. There was the cold breeze in the pirate transport as they sat on the ground and their captors moseyed around them, that subtle breeze of movement the only knowledge of where their captors were, never knowing what they might do to them next; a shot, a strike, a knife in the neck. There was the barrage of frigid wind when Fortuna greeted them, battering at them as they stood in a line before the transport atop the outside landing pad.

Footsteps marched up and down the line, heavier than the others with assumed authority, two sets. Laren knew who they belonged to. They hesitated in front of him and in a split second, the blinding whiteness of Fortuna was revealed to his one good eye. Blinking away the sudden shock of having his blindfold removed, he came face to face with Lylat's own proof of hell's existence. That chill topped the others.

The hostages were locked up back in the transport. Laren was not.

The long-abandoned McMarthen Allied Military Base offered little more warmth, though Laren had considered that being around Hellion again froze him more than the planet's climate. Their taunts and glee while they escorted him through the icy base sparked long-buried memories of what they'd done to him…what they made him do. But he had prepared for it, had shielded his mind as best he could during the long trip to Fortuna.

And he knew the true torture was still yet to come.

It had been a long time since Laren felt cold.

The last time was the chill that racked his body when the twins cuffed him to a metal chair in the dingy, timeworn base commander's office and looked at him with the same eager faces burned into his memory…the same faces that comprised the last scene his right eye ever saw before it was dug out with a rusty screwdriver years before. Ares and Eris didn't need many tools like the professional torturer artists Laren had seen in undercover work behind Venomian lines during the war. They preferred to get their hands dirty, use their sharpened fingerclaws to provoke, tease, taunt, and inflict pain only when they'd get the most thrill from it. They would improvise with what they had, everything from a soldering iron to a paper clip. The way an artist would see shapes and beauty in all around him, the twins saw the potential for death and pain the way few minds could. And far from the disconnected void of emotion from a professional, Hellion would mock and giggle in glee as they worked.

Soon after he was cuffed to the chair, Laren could feel no cold anymore. Eris had her fun first, using the subtle sexual flirting that always made him feel more ill than morbidly aroused. It never worked back when he was undercover with Hellion, and it didn't work now, provoking Eris to use her claws to dig rather than caress, soon warming him with streams of his own blood and the sheets of sweat from natural fear and pain anticipation. Any self-respecting CDIA field agent could take his licks and never crack, and Laren knew himself to be one of them…but Hellion didn't want information. They never cared. They just wanted to see him suffer.

Laren lost track of hours – days? – spent left in that room, his white TDE suit soaked with sweat and blood…

_…like a candy cane,_ the jackal thought with a painful, delirious chuckle at some point when he teetered on the brink of consciousness. _White and red like a candy cane…._

…but he managed to find sleep before Hellion came back a fourth time. The rusty metal door slid open and the lights flickered on. Laren lifted his head and watched Ares step overt the thick metal-encased power line that snaked along the floor to the portable control terminal and holoscreen against the wall. The orange glow of the holoscreen was the only color and light Laren had when he was alone, the bare, abandoned office totally devoid of anything except the metal chair that held him. He and Eris wore the usual abstract mixture of clothes without any care for matching or style, just whatever they'd stolen or picked off corpses that caught their eye.

"Well, well, doesn't our little traitor look more bright-eyed and bushy-tailed today, sister?" Ares leaned over to smirk in the jackal's blood-crusted face. "I just love that brand spanking new fake eye of his! Amazing what technology can do. I think we should pluck out the other one so he can get a matching set."

"We need a matching set too, brother," Eris giggled as she walked over to the terminal. "His eye looks so lonely bobbing in that jar back on the Hellraiser." She typed a password at the keyboard and the holoscreen split into four segments, each cycling the cameras set up all over the base for surveillance and communication.

"I wonder how he likes only having one eye, sister. We've spent so much time having fun with our former buddy we haven't really had a chance to catch up on old times." Though Ares spoke to his sister, his vivid gaze remained fixed on his captive. "You surprised us all, escaping the Hellraiser even after we dug out an eye. Got a hefty set of balls down there. But I wonder what that eye reminds you of every time you look in a mirror and know it's a fake. Every time you blink and only see one eyelid go down and up. You could've got biotechnic eye implants to restore your sight but you didn't, you went with a fake-o ball. Why, ole pal o' mine? Why?"

"Maybe the poor little dear couldn't afford it.," the tigress chimed in.

"No, no." Ares grabbed the jackal by the fur on his head and painfully pulled his face up so their eyes were level to each other. "He had us convinced that he could be trusted. That takes a special kind of guy." His voice grew softer and his eyes wider in mock sympathy. "Does this eye remind you of the day you convinced us? The day we hit the ambassador convoy in the middle of that intersection for the Regent Starliner codes? Hordes of city rabble running all around, cops pouring from everywhere. I tell you, sister…I never saw a man work a gun like our lost boy here."

"I remember, brother. Beautiful, like an artist working with paints of searing plasma and a canvas of living flesh."

"He was being a bit too careful with his shots at first. But oh, oh, yes, did he pass the real test with flying colors. Does he remember?" Ares grinned and his sorrowful eyes continued to mock. "I got right up there with him and started laying into the crowd, into police cars, into anything that moved. He couldn't hold back then. He couldn't stop firing, not with me there. He ripped so many people apart I was actually getting jealous. Remember that little feline girl in the red dress with the black stripe around the middle? I think they had to take an interplanetary flight to find the other half of her head! You and I always have bets going for kills, sister, but that day I think our traitor here won them all."

"I believe so, brother. I was so proud! I guess that's how a mother feels."

"We didn't need any more convincing after that. I remember thinking there's no way this guy could be dirty. I thought, there's no way in hell any government spook could do that." Ares tapped on the false eye with his claw. "Is that what you see out of this eye all the time? That little girl? That intersection running red with blood?"

Laren just swallowed and let his head bow when the tiger released his fur.

"Well, how do you like that?" the tiger huffed. "We try to talk about the glory days with an old friend and he doesn't even have the decency to hold a conversation."

"Maybe he's afraid to admit he got a kick out of it."

"Ah, yes! Maybe we should offer him a job again. You know, like a prodigal killer. We could always use the help."

"Oh, why burden ourselves with him, brother? He's fun, but he's too serious! He didn't even get what was so funny about that cop crawling after his missing arm."

"Never deny help, sister. Don't you remember?"

"Pish-posh, brother. Who ever said we needed help?"

"Our old school psychiatrist."

Eris threw her head back and laughed until she fell to the ground with her arms wrapped around her middle.

"See what you missed, ole pal?" Ares said with a wide smile of his own. "So many laughs. Why not join in? You may not be able to laugh very soon."

Laren kept his head bowed and his breathing even, conserving his strength.

"Such a party pooper," Eris complained from the floor, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

"Too true, sister. Government types never know how to have fun. I bet if they—"

A sudden pulsing beep from the terminal interrupted an annoyed Ares and prompted Eris to hop to her feet and step over to the holoscreen. The dozens of camera angles quickly scrolled along the holoscreen until one red-bordered segment came into view and expanded to fill the entire screen. Laren squinted past his exhausted haze at it and saw that the camera view was at about chest-level, most likely mounted on another portable terminal, and showed the inside of a small security shack along with three jittery pirates.

Eris sighed. "Should I see what shadow they're jumping at this time, brother? I swear, hiring fodder is hardly worth the effort these days."

"Acquiescent as ever, sister. Answer the call."

A canine pirate in a heavy overcoat answered the line while his two buddies kept their guns on a nervous swivel as if expecting an attack from any angle. "Base? This is border outpost delta, need reinforcements now!"

Eris rolled her eyes. "And what's so important that I should care about you three?"

"There's something out there in the snow…some kind of monster or android or something. My guys shot at it but it kept coming. I don't know what it is…it's…it's like a…"

The camera feed shuddered as a resounding thud loud enough to make Laren's bones vibrate shook the security room. The pirate rifles pointed skyward and the stammering leader spun and raised his gun as well.

"It's…it's on the goddamn roof. Get out there! Shoot it off! Get out—"

A blast filled with the high whine of energy discharge interrupted the order and blew the roof inward, raining dust, snow, and concrete into the outpost. Screams and gunfire lit the chaos with a deadly strobe effect as figures moved in the obscuring cloud of debris. Louder, rapid-fire energy pulses answered the rifle fire, piercing the shroud and adding mists of blood and smoke to the fray. All gunfire fell silent, replaced by metallic impacts and crunching bones. Just when the commotion seemed to have finally died, replaced by the low whistle of wind from the caved roof, a body was flung through the smoke and struck the terminal over, causing even Eris to flinch back in surprise. Heavy footsteps followed, solid, reminding Laren of walking loaders in military dockyards. But the machine that materialized from the swirl of smoke and snow, skewed through the toppled camera, looked more like a wolf or fox, clad in silver armor from ears to toes.

Laren dared a small grin. He hadn't been sure what to expect when Beltino showed him the plan, showed him pictures of the Paladin armor. It just looked like a suit of metal with ostentatious design and functionality, a costume that would make a soldier a ridiculous spectacle. But if Beltino had truly managed to get the Dagger captain himself to go along with it – and the jackal was sure even without being able to see him – then Gage brought it all together in a fusion of martial fury and power. The pirates certainly hadn't been laughing.

"Oh, my…" Ares breathed as the intruder reached out with its gauntlet and righted the terminal.

"You said it, brother. I knew the galaxy didn't appreciate us much, but…I don't remember angering the android community. Do synthetics get mad?"

Ares approached the terminal and opened the comm channel again, giving a mystified gaze at the blood-red visor staring back at them over the armored muzzle. Though the visor had been engineered with a double-inclined "brow" to give it the impression of a fierce glare for intimidation purposes, Laren felt the peculiar feeling that the sentiment belonged to the operator himself.

"Good show," the tiger commented, his face still fixed in amused interest. "Fortuna sure has come a long way in its military development…if you are indeed Fortuna military. Is there a living, breathing, bleeding, ripe-for-the-killing meatbag inside that pretty shell, or do I have to settle for destroying a machine? No fun in that, you know."

The red visor stared back.

After a few moments, the cranium armor began to retract with a series of rapid clicks, the segmented metal folding in on itself and collapsing in stages into the neck and shoulder pieces. Even the visor folded in the middle and slid away. The almost musical clinking finished to more silence, Hellion for once at a loss for words and the red fox on the other end looking back with a face no less stoic and solid than the armor that had covered it.

"Oh, I am _impressed_," Ares finally said with barely contained elation. "But you didn't have to dress so formal; we're old friend by now, aren't we, Captain Birse?"

Gage calmly surveyed the room through the camera feed, his eyes lingering on Laren, then looked around the ruined shack on his end, as if not even interested in Hellion's presence.

"Curious, brother," Eris said, tapping her cheek in thought with her forefinger. "Our information merchants reported no CASOC activity. In fact, most of the Vanguard fleet that whooped poor old Dianus was sent home. But here stands Gagey…without his team, in this lovely new toy, without any military markings. Where's your team, Gagey? Don't tell me they're such sore losers that they're scared to face us now."

The fox concluded his sweep of the shack and returned his stone glare to the camera.

"Could it be, sister? Could it be our poor captain couldn't take that little prank we played on him and his dear vixen? No…not our Dagger hero. Our hero wouldn't come without the masters holding his leash telling him what he can or can't do. And he certainly wouldn't come without his entourage. Where are they lurking, sister? Where's his little Dagger friends?"

"All the other outposts are quiet. The hostage guards don't see nothin.'"

Ares smirked at the terminal. "You're a resilient playmate, cappy, I'll give you that. A regular glutton for failure. We weren't expecting company so soon, so I apologize that I don't have something more…intricate to welcome you with. We'll keep it simple, just the way you like it; hostages in a bomb-rigged transport out by the landing pad, and a detonator in my innocent little pocket. You hearing me alright? Don't want to miss the instructions, now do we?"

Gage's eyes narrowed.

Laren could see the silence was starting to get to the twins; Eris gave a quizzical look to her brother, whose amused face turned to a scowl.

"I think he's quite sore with us, brother."

"Too true, sister." Ares' deeper voice betrayed his annoyance. "I think he was rather attached to that bitch. Is she dead yet, Birse? Did it hurt? Did she suffer, hopelessly clinging to every breath, just delaying the inevitable? Did she die in your arms, or were you forced to watch from afar as it happened? Oh, how I hope it was agonizing…for both of you. I wish I could've been there."

Gage's face didn't change a tick.

"Now listen up, cappy. I'm going to blow those hostages to hell in exactly five minutes, unless you—"

The tiger stopped short, surprised as his adversary grinned back at him.

"Look at him, sister. And they call us insane. Birse, you better listen or else we'll—"

"You're alive because of a mistake, Ares." Gage's rumbling voice silenced the twins, strong and confident, yet devoid of the anger the tigers had grown used to from him. "I made a mistake not finishing you on Artemis Thirteen when I had the chance. It's time to correct that mistake."

The twins exchanged a look and Eris attempted, "Gagey, you better—"

"You ever hear of Leon Powalski?" he continued. "You would've hit it off with him. He said he respected me because I do what's necessary. He was partly right; I kill when necessary, I break laws when necessary, I inflict pain when necessary. But he was wrong in one important area; I was never able to let my teammates, civilians, and hostages die when necessary. That's another mistake I intend to correct."

The twins stayed quiet.

"He was totally right about one thing, though. If I don't accept my potential, if I don't stop trying to hide behind 'purpose' when I kill, then eventually I'll be consumed. It's quite…freeing. I'm here with no purpose other than to kill you. I'm not here for hostages or Corneria or Dagger. Just to kill you. Aren't you happy? Didn't you always want to prove that Dagger couldn't beat you? You both won; you were right. I can't save the hostages even if I tried. So I'm not here as Dagger. Just Gage Birse. Just a man who's decided to settle for the one thing he can do: I can kill you. I can make it slow…painful…I can savor every single drop and make sure you bleed enough for every person you've made me lose. And when I'm satisfied, I'll let you die."

Ares tried to contain hints of concern creeping into his expression. "Birse…I'll kill those people without a second's hesitation, you know that."

Gage replied as if he hadn't even heard the tiger. "What was it you said to me on Artemis Thirteen before you left me kneeling with a dead child in my arms? Do you remember? I'll never forget. You asked what I thought of you after seeing what you were capable of. I remember that mocking voice…'Now you've seen us. What do you think?'"

Gage's eyes disappeared as the segmented cranium armor extracted and formed into place around his head, muzzle, and ears once more. The red visor locked into place and emanated a soft glow, continuing the fierce glare. His next word, though filtered through the vocal emitter, resonated with all the fervor of his intense voice.

"What do you think of _me_ now, Hellion?"

Without a moment's pause, he raised his armored fist and struck the terminal, causing the camera feed to go black and burden the room with a heavy silence. Ares and Eris still stared at the dead feed, the most surprised Laren had ever seen them. Their faltering bravado struck the right nerve, for he began to chuckle deep within his chest and, though it hurt to do so, broke out loud to fill the quiet room.

"It seems," Laren rasped between chuckles, "you created a monster…and he's decided to repay you for it."

The jackal thought for sure his remark would earn a punch or two but Ares just looked at him with hateful eyes and spoke, but not to him.

"Sister…be a dear and direct our boys toward Birse. Hardware too. We've had our fun with him but I'm afraid he's become a bit too serious for my taste. I want him dead."

"Too true, brother. Too true."

-

* * *

-

Gage leapt back up onto a stable portion of the ruined roof and looked ahead into the quickly-intensifying snowstorm. With the sight amplification help of the visor he could barely see the McMarthen military compound nearly two miles in the distance past the abandoned town that lay between them. A quick look all around him showed nothing else in the frozen Fortuna landscape, no threats or assistance, nothing to get in his way. The storm had only just begun, blanketing the town in ankle-deep snow, but he knew it would get worse. With a deep filtered breath through the Paladin headpiece he leapt with boost-assisted distance over the remains of the town's collapsed border fence and landed in the middle of the road. He had read Beltino's briefing on the area so many times during the trip to Fortuna that he nearly had it memorized; no harm in thinking over it again:

_The Katinians have a good fix on the area through thermal and motion imaging as well as signature identification programs. Hellion has holed up in the old McMarthen Allied Military Base, affectionately known as the "Mac" to planetary soldiers. It was a large though poorly placed all-purpose military compound during the Lylat War that was abandoned due to budget cuts afterwards. Never saw any action, built into a part of the Fortuna wasteland that expected development but never found it. A small town, appropriately named McMarthen was built to house soldiers and their families; a modest place with a population of about two thousand. It's a ghost town now, abandoned when the base went under._

Gage walked straight down the main street like a sheriff waiting for a rival gunslinger, three and four story shop fronts ravaged by the never-ending winter on each side, the constant howl of wind whipping through the myriad holes and broken structure of the buildings. He imagined at one point the town must have looked like an oasis in the middle of a frozen desert; if he imagined, he could see the quaint style the town was aiming for to give the soldiers a homey feel in a hostile place. But he was more interested in the vermin that now crawled through McMarthen.

His visor came to life, the targeting reticule pinpointing and marking different heat signatures, some closing in from a distance, others trying to hide in buildings. Dozens of blue silhouettes became clear in his view. Many were moving to cover, thinking themselves hidden, while others waited to snipe from the roofs and higher windows in the canyon of shops around him. Gage sighed to himself. Two miles down the street and past the town was his target, the military base. Anyone between him and his goal was just combat data for Beltino to study.

_The Fortunian pirate band Frostburn took over McMarthen a year ago and conducts hit-and-run raids on convoys and shipping lanes in the sector. Hellion enjoys using them from time to time and the pirates enjoy feeling like big shots helping out the infamous Hellion. Be careful, though; they're hardy to survive Fortuna's winters and they're competent killers. They have a membership of nearly a hundred at last count, though thermals show fifty to sixty active signatures. I don't know how many more you could expect to face…and I don't know how many will choose to stay and fight once the Paladin comes knocking._

"Pulse," Gage said, prompting his forearm plate segments to shift and allow the heavy energy guns to protrude.

He aimed his left arm at the nearest blue signature, a sniper waiting in a second-story window a few hundred feet up the road. The targeting assist locked on and with a flick of his finger, a green anti-armor blast streaked through the storm, vaporizing the falling snow instantly. It blew the entire quarter of the second story into a mess of rubble and smoke and blue signature disappeared along with it. Fortunately, the targeting assist was smart enough to recognize a live heat signature from a lingering recently-deceased one and moved on to the next target.

The initial attack spurred the rest of the pirates into action. Lasers spewed from windows, from around building corners, from pirates running for better cover. The shots bounced off the titanium alloy coating and only forced the slightest nudge where they impacted, even the lucky shots that would've splattered his gray matter all over the snow any other day. Gage never broke stride; he continued forward effortlessly with the neural link syncing his body movements with the suit movements as if he wasn't wearing anything at all. He kept the AT guns in play, blowing snipers from their perches along with most of the building around them. A cluster of three snipers on one roof earned a double-armed assault that ripped the entire upper half of the building out from under them and caved in the rest of the structure.

A flashing red "Overheat" warning flickered across his visor and the suit automatically retracted the guns.

"Repeaters!" The wrist armor expanded to allow the twin heavy repeaters into the light, each one every bit as powerful as a dropship-mounted support weapon.

Gage answered the plinking of the enemy rifles with a tempest of red laser fire, the rapid rate making the blizzard around him appear slow. The repeaters chewed through structure and pirate alike, the targeting reticule splitting into two, each one guiding its own hand. The fox picked up the stride, each deadly arm handling its own side of the street until the dusty debris from so many blasted holes swirled through the air with all the turbulence of the storm. The blue heat signatures dropped one by one, some showing grisly end moments of limbs separating and torsos torn in two. The heart-pounding thunder of gunfire that Gage had grown used to on countless battlefields was a dull roar, selectively filtered by the armor.

Just as the repeaters' heat gauge began to complain, the visor picked up another heat contact further down the road, much larger than a pirate. Before Gage could react, an energy blast streaked through the air and struck him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him with its force and sending him flying back to the pavement with a heavy metal clang. Groaning from the impact, he stood and smacked the side of his head to correct his flickering visor HUD. With some surprise, he noticed that he left a fifty-foot long trench in the snow where he'd been blown back.

_Imaging also shows possible implementation of armored vehicles hijacked or stolen from convoys and raids. Expect one or two possible heavies as well as the lighter single-man snowspeeders they use for convoy blitzes. The Paladin has shown mixed results in simulations that pit it against traditional vehicles. I hope you prove the more negative simulations wrong._

"ID!" he growled, looking at the large heat signature. The visor scanner blinked and a three-dimensional model of a tank rotated before his right eye before disappearing. Gage didn't need to see the readout stats to know his enemy: Arcturus tank, specially designed by Fortuna army for winter conditions, uses hover repulsors rather than treads, making it less stable but far more mobile in deep snow. Fortunately, the limited repulsor power also forced engineers to cut back on armor to make the tank lighter. Light, yet nimble.

But not as nimble as Gage.

He hopped away as another blast exploded at his feet and followed with a boost-assisted leap to the left side of the road…straight through the cracked stone wall of a dilapidated store, onto the second floor. Though he'd actually been aiming for the third story – the suit was user-friendly but he knew he still needed practice – he made do with what he had and ran across the bare wooden floor. Triggering the boost again, he smashed through a window on the other end and careened across the alley through the adjacent store's wall just as a tank blast ripped through the building he had occupied just a second before and blew it to shreds. Gage knew his new shelter would only last as long as it took the Arcturus' main gun to warm up again. Time to regroup and reengage.

He leapt out the window to the rear of the building, abandoning the main street approach altogether, and crossed a parking lot while the tank made rubble out of the store behind him. Beyond the lot lay a side street and a stretch of dilapidated, ramshackle prefabricated one-story houses. They hadn't held up as well as the stone-built stores and comprised little more than a graveyard of former soldier family dwellings, some with little more than a wall or two still standing. At least four parallel streets of houses lay between him and McMarthen's west gate with an empty area in the middle. Gage assumed it used to be a park, judging from the remains of a few stone benches.

As he ran across the snow covered lawns to find cover amongst the ruined houses, a new sound teased his ears, growing louder than the approaching tank engine. Buzzing, whining, multiple sources. A quick scan with his visor further toward the base showed rapid heat movements growing nearer. He didn't bother having the IFF identify the four blips tearing at him down the road; he knew a snowspeeder when he heard it, a single-man crotch rocket like a city hoverbike, except fitted with both hover repulsors and forward skids to make sure it kept gliding over dunes and snowdrifts. Not much cover for the exposed rider, but very effective for lightning assault.

Effective against a Paladin?

_Let's find out._

Gage stood his ground and casually walked toward the speeders.

"Pulse."

_"Cooling in progress."_

"Shit."

_"Unrecognized command."_

Gage sighed; still some kinks for TDE to work out. He stuck with the rapid repeaters and waited for his visor to gain a lock. Once the speeders closed to two hundred meters, he raised his arms and opened fire in their direction, lasers cutting through the air and causing them to swerve. Two broke off to the sides while the others sped toward the houses and weaved around the ruins in erratic patterns. Gage grunted, grudgingly impressed with the driving. He kept up the fire, ripping up walls and forcing the speeders to keep on the defensive, but after a few seconds the guns retracted and the hated "Overheating" warning flashed across the visor.

"Dammit!" Gage spat. "Really gotta work on the fucking heatsinks, Toad!"

Fine, he thought to himself. We'll do it the hard way.

The speeder drivers were a step above the cautious fodder that had tried to ambush him on the main street. As if waiting for the slightest lull, two of them broke their defensive circling and charged him, front-mounted energy weapons pounding into his plating and scarring it noticeably more than the plinkers before. Gage stumbled back from the surprise assault only to be broadsided by another speeder that barreled into him from behind and knocked him to the ground before buzzing away.

Head spinning from the impact, he quickly hopped to his feet and whipped his eyes around to locate the four assailants. Like sharks circling their prey, they waited for their next opportunity, probably unaware that he was without weapons for a few minutes. Once more, two broke away and made a beeline for him, guns blazing. Gage anticipated the attack from behind and rolled to the side as the third speeder flew by, but his ears perked up at the sound of the fourth engine hitting its peak to his right.

He acted on instinct, estimating the distance without thinking, just reacting. In one fluid movement, he brought his arm over his head, pivoted to meet the noise, and brought his power-assisted fist down hard, smashing the front of the fourth speeder into the ground a nanosecond before it struck him. The sudden stop flung the pirate over Gage's head to smack against a ruined house and crumple into the snow. He didn't get up.

Lasers pelted Gage's back as another speeder tried to take advantage of the distraction, but the fox didn't turn to engage him right away. Instead, he tightened his fingers around the mess of metal his fist had penetrated, lifted the wrecked snowspeeder, and hurled it at the shooter. Both speeders exploded in a fiery eruption that lit the blizzard and left a melted trench in the snow. The enflamed speeder flipped end over end, missing Gage by no more than an arm's length as it passed.

The two remaining riders suddenly felt like playing a little more defensively, and Gage was all too willing to press the attack. Eyeballing the trajectory, he boost-jumped toward one that was trying to speed away to gain some distance but overshot it instead of landing on top of it like he planned. Thinking quickly, he clenched his fist as he spun around and belted the speeder with an uppercut that sent the vehicle – and driver – flying through the air like a line drive into a nearby house, demolishing the two walls that were left.

The lone surviving rider had stopped his speeder no more than thirty feet away and stared through the intensifying blizzard at the silver-clad fox like a sparrow staring down a frigate. Gage waited with a tinge of amusement to see what the pirate would do but the man seemed hesitant to even try escaping as if standing perfectly still would make him invisible.

Another sound…not the speeder's idling engine; higher, distant…

Gage's eyes went wide as he remembered Beltino's final recon warning and dove to the side as heavy laser fire ripped into the snow-covered road from above, eviscerating where he had stood a moment before and cutting a swathe that finished the job of destroying the final speeder with an explosion whose noise barely dwarfed the intense fire. He looked up in time for his visor to lock onto the fighter's heat signature and draw up a fleeting three-dimensional model.

_Frostburn is suspected to be in possession of a salvaged Starfire close air support fighter, equipped with weapons that could make the Paladin seem like nothing more than a kevlar vest. It's uncertain whether these land-based pirates have anyone who can fly it, but be careful all the same; the Paladin is not specialized for anti-air engagements. You don't want to know the simulation statistics for those trials._

The sleek blue fighter boosted high and dove into an inverted half-loop to go for another pass at its quarry. Noticing on his HUD that the pulse guns were almost ready for use again, Gage jumped up onto the roof of a house further up the street to prepare for a shot at the Starfire.

"Pulse."

The heavy hitters jutted forth from the forearm armor once more. Gage raised both fists and grinned to himself as the targeting sensors locked on to the fighter.

Then the whole world went dark.

Gage opened his eyes to the white heavens, snow whipping all around him like the cosmos from a cockpit going warp speed, tinted orange from the visor. As he struggled to his feet, his body aching as if it had just gone through a week of physical training, the first thing he noticed was the blaring alarm in his ears and a flashing red "Warning!" across his eyes, followed by scrolling features such as "Armor Compromised" and "Weapons Failure." A quick assessment of his surroundings showed the fighter streaking over head; apparently he'd only been out for a couple seconds. Whatever knocked him out had blown him clear off the roof to the next street over.

The tank…the goddamn tank had found a way around the main street stores.

Sure enough, as Gage stumbled around a ruined house he spotted the Arcturus hovering around the corner near the front gate, slowly gliding its way toward the residential area. He looked down and blinked in surprise; the Paladin's once polished silver exterior was marred with dozens of laser impacts, dents, and blackened burns, the final tank shot having eroded part of the right torso and even begun to melt it.

"Diagnostic!"

The HUD flickered, a spiderweb crack over the right eye distorting most of the field of view.

"Diagnostic, dammit!"

Nothing, just the looping warning. The blow had severed the HUD's feedback connection, everything from targeting to weapon control. Gage was at least thankful the neural connection hadn't been cut or he'd be stuck in a metal coffin.

"Retract!"

The cranium segments scraped and complained but finally recessed into the neck and shoulder armor, exposing his sweat-soaked head fur to the freezing cold of Fortuna. Wind whistled in his ears and snow bombarded his eyes and face, but the weather was the least of his concerns. The broken visor refused to move so he settled for ripping it from its moorings and tossing it aside. His head had been exposed but at least he could see and hear.

As if to taunt his new vulnerability, the tank's main gun roared again and blew apart the house he had been trying to hide behind, nearly deafening his exposed ears. The shot was followed by a strafing run from the fighter that finished off the pitiful remnants of the house and forced Gage to dive out of the way.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," Gage snapped to himself, frustration and pain throbbing throughout his body.

But he wasn't out yet; he could still feel the suit moving with him, still feel the strength behind his power-assisted arms and legs…

…still feel Hellion so close to him, closer than they'd ever been before. Too close to let them get away again.

His teeth gritting, a battle-inflamed rumble deep in his throat, Gage leapt back into the fray toward the fiery remains of the snowspeeder the fighter had so graciously disposed of. Sucking in a breath at the searing flame against his face, he grabbed the wreckage and boosted straight up as a tank energy blast flashed by and impacted harmlessly against a house behind him. At the apex of his high jump, Gage wound up and threw the speeder at the tank, landing in time to watch it impact against the front armor and cause the heavy vehicle to sway and recoil on its hover repulsors.

Using the precious few seconds before the tank could reacquire him, Gage hit the manual release on the bicep of his right arm for the pulse gun but the barrel had been mangled by the crippling blow and refused to respond. His left pulse gun offered a mixed blessing; it seemed relatively undamaged and ready for action, but a red blinking light encircling the rear of the barrel signaled a problem that needed technical attention. Gage struggled to recollect the limited study time he had with the manual and remembered that a blinking light signaled functionality while a solid light signaled failure. He knew the gun would at least work…but he couldn't tell how many shots the damaged mechanism could take, and the tank wouldn't go down without at least four well-placed blows to its weakest armor points.

He had to make the first hit be a knockout.

Jaw set with steely determination, Gage sprinted across the snowy expanse straight at the Arcturus, his eyes glaring with unflinching focus. The tank had steadied and beaded its massive main gun on him once more, but he kept on, waiting…focusing…holding out for one telltale sign that would mean his death if the blizzard obscured it enough. But, like a deadly divine sign, the light shown through; the momentary build-up of energy for the main gun's discharge glowed deep within the barrel, lasting only for the blink of an eye, but that blink was enough. Gage jumped, barely clearing the devastating shot, and landed on the front of the tank with a heavy thud, causing the repulsors to rock like a boat in a storm. He hopped, grabbed the massive main gun barrel with his right hand and lifted himself up until he was practically staring into the business end.

"Suck it down, asshole," he growled into the din of wind, engines, and the scream of the fighter as it swooped down to try for another pass.

Bracing himself for what was to come, the fox shoved his left arm down the Arcturus' main gun as if reaching down a beast's mouth to tear out its heart, took a deep breath, and fired.

Gage's battered eardrums again assaulted, the shot tore into the tank's vulnerable guts and blew a hole out the other end of the cockpit. As the hover repulsors flickered and died, the fox knew what was coming and tried to get away but the gun power cells quickly ignited; the Arcturus went up in a deafening pillar of flame and metal that sent out a snow-billowing shockwave and propelled Gage to the ground. Feeling as if the tank had run him over, he groaned and forced himself to move to keep from blacking out again.

"That was for my HUD," he grumbled with a tension-relieving chuckle that made his head throb and magnified the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. He rose to find a pleasant surprise: the Starfire pilot hadn't anticipated the tank's bad case of heartburn and had apparently been damaged by the explosion as it passed, probably from the burst of deadly debris. A lingering smoke trail was quickly being swallowed up by the blizzard but Gage could see it arc into the sky. He rushed past the tank remains back to the main street, wary of any remaining pirates, but either no pirates were left standing or the ones that remained were smart enough to bug out.

Standing once more in the middle of the ghost town's store front canyon, Gage stood still and watched the dim light of the Starfire's thrusters disappear into the distance, the roar of its engines melding into the hard wind. With his intense focus relaxed, he became aware of another sound, one that had been in his head since the Arcturus' painful demise, but he thought was just part of his ringing ears. A high-pitched beep repeated over and over from his left shoulder and was joined by a yellow light in the pauldron. He knew that signal from one of the red-highlighted "important" sections of the Paladin operator manual: imminent power failure. The tank's explosion apparently hadn't been kind to the power reserve casing.

Gage didn't care for the specifics; he was surprised enough the prototype had taken him this far. All he knew was he had to get out of the suit.

But as he reached under his left arm for the chest manual retraction release that would open the suit, he froze and perked his ears up at the wind. It had grown slightly heavier in his ears. A pit grew in his stomach; he looked up toward McMarthen Base and through the snow spotted the arc of black smoke…turning around to finish him off. The damaged Starfire's pilot wasn't done with his target yet.

_The Paladin is not specialized for anti-air engagements. You don't want to know the simulation statistics for those trials._

Gage grimaced, again remembering the brief's warning. No chance to outrun or hide from the fighter's targeting sensors, especially when the Paladin threatened to shut down any minute. Already knowing the answer, he looked at his left pulse gun for any sign of life. Even if the solid red light hadn't signaled malfunction, firing down the tank's throat had damaged the gauntlet itself. No way he could manually get the repeaters into place past the damage. Short of giving the fighter the big metal finger, he had nothing to fight with.

Nothing projectile anyway.

Gage took a deep breath into his burning lungs and let it out slowly. He stood his ground, facing down the Starfire as it streaked through the snow on its attack run. He glared unblinking at the enemy as he had so many times before, no matter the threat, no matter the odds. Never had he backed down before. And with the Starfire between him and Hellion, an entire squadron of fighters wouldn't cause him to take so much as a step in retreat.

The whine of the Starfire overtook the howl of the wind once more, a screeching bird of prey diving to kill its vulnerable meal.

Gage slid his right foot back and tensed his legs.

Gunfire spewed from the fighter's twin cannons and ravaged the road, but they didn't find their target.

With a final, earnest inhale, Gage sprinted forth toward the deadly rain and shoved off into the air, the boost-assisted jump launching him higher than the rooftops around him. The Starfire pilot cut his attack short and tried to pull away from the living cannonball coming straight for him, but Gage pulled his fist back as far as he could and struck with as much power as the suit would allow, an impassioned cry of exertion thundering over the fighter's boosters. His fist hit the wounded right wing head on, tearing it off its damaged moorings as if it had been struck by a titanium wall. Gage landed hard, buckling to one knee with his palms on the snowy pavement for support, the severed wing spinning through the air and smashing through a dilapidated store wall.

He didn't need to turn around but he looked over his shoulder anyway; the satisfying noise told the story. With the death wail of an aircraft out of control, the Starfire fell into a chaotic spinning dive and plunged through three buildings in a row, leaving a fiery trail of wreckage that lit the winter-choked sky and rained brick and dusty mortar into the street. Gage forced himself to his feet and forged ahead toward McMarthen Base, leaving the flames and wreckage at his back.

_Never did trust simulation statistics._

_-_

_

* * *

_

_-  
_

"You know, brother…I believe we may have gone a bit too far with Gagey-poo."

Ares calmly hit the terminal's camera display button, cutting the multiple feeds showing the destruction in McMarthen, his hand subtly quivering in anger. "He does seem rather upset, doesn't he now? What do we have left to throw in his way?"

"Only a few of our little friends survived and some have apparently decided not to follow our orders anymore."

"Pity. Pencil in a time to reprimand them for being killjoys. Do any pirates value their balls enough to stay?"

"Of course!" Eris giggled, though a noticeably nervous undertone broke it up. "Our natural leadership ability is impossible to resist. They're a little rattled but they'll still absorb whatever fire goes into them."

"That's all we can ask for with this planet's pitiful selection of rabble, sister. I do so miss the big cities where the meatbags are cheap, the civilians plentiful, and the chaos always just one happy idea away."

"Too true, brother."

"Leave a few behind to slow him at the front door in case he makes it here; we'll take our little traitor here as our guest to the old barracks wing."

Eris nodded vigorously but her brow furrowed. "What do you mean 'if' he makes it to the front door, brother? What's left to stop him?"

"The only thing guaranteed to break a Dagger man's back." Ares grinned, pulling a beat-up PDA from his pocket. "Bless his heart, he tried very hard to appear different before, but I don't buy it. He's still Dagger; he won't let hostages die."

The tiger pulled up the terminal display again, activated the broad comm frequency, and sent out a call signal to each of the fifteen portable stations set up around McMarthen's base and town. Three feeds were blank, their terminals destroyed in the battle outside. The rest lay dormant. A pulsing tone filled the silence of the former commander's office as the tigers waited for any response.

One minute passed, then another.

The tone ceased; one of the holoscreen's monitor segments blinked and expanded to fill the entire screen, showing the bloody, soot-smeared, yet confident face of Gage Birse.

"The ever-entertaining captain replies!" Ares greeted with a smile, a nervous swallow following when he saw the responding terminal to be the one set up just outside the McMarthen base perimeter. "Can I get you some disinfectant for those cuts? A lollipop maybe?"

"Surprised, Ares? You didn't think a little thing like a company-sized attack force with armored reinforcement and close air support would keep me from coming, did you?"

"No, no, we were quite enthralled over here, weren't we, sister?"

"Absolutely, brother. Ohh, you have no idea how bad I want those lips, Gagey. Nothing's better than a strong man's kiss with a little blood to add some flavor."

Without a response, Gage turned away and walked a few steps into the background. The twins could now see that he had emerged from the armor, only his thin black special forces thermal jumpsuit between him and danger. He stepped over a pirate's dead body, four grenades from the corpse's vest clutched in his hands, and stood beside the upright exosuit, its front armor segments open and exposing its inside.

"My, my, Birse," Ares continued. "Did your toy break down on you? I hope you kept the warranty." He smirked. "You know, it's funny that now without the cover and without the mask, your Dagger insignia finally shows."

Gage glanced to his right bicep where the gray-camouflaged insignia of the 1st SFD-E was displayed above a similarly shaded Cornerian flag. "How do you know the flag isn't my cover? How do you know the Dagger emblem isn't my mask?"

"Why don't we find out just how far you're really willing to go?" The tiger raised the PDA even though his enemy wasn't looking. "I'm hooked directly into the explosives on that dropship where the hostages are sitting and crying and waiting for a hero to save their worthless lives. No tricks, Birse, no complicated rules. Start walking to the other end of the compound right now or the hostages die."

Gage chuckled as he began priming the grenades with a twist of their detonators. "I've played this game before. I go to the other end of the compound where the hostages' dropship is, which gives you time to slip to the Hellraiser. Can't leave the command building as long as I'm out here gunning for you; well, you can try, but…you know what a good shot I am. Then you kill the hostages, maybe me along with them, and you escape. Same old story."

"You're overestimating your position of power here, Gagey," Eris chimed in. "We have your CDIA buddy here also. You come after us, he dies along with the other hostages. Either you do as your told like a good military grunt or you'll have a lot of hostage blood on your hands."

"As long as your blood is mixed in with theirs, I don't care. I thought I made it clear what I was here to do: kill you, no matter who gets in my way or who dies." Gage glanced up. "I'm pretty confident in my position of power. How about you?"

"Birse!" Ares snapped, his face shaking in barely controlled rage. "You…you're not…you fucking…fucking…you're not playing the game _fair_!"

Gage laughed, a booming string that echoed in the commander's office, and shrugged. "I learned from the best."

With that, he pulled the primers all the way, dropped two grenades down each armored Paladin leg, and strode past the terminal, his final words soon drowned out by an explosion that engulfed it.

"See you soon."

Ares stared bug-eyed at the terminal, saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth as he clenched his teeth and seethed with fury. Gripping the PDA so hard he nearly snapped it, he pounded the blinking tab on the touchscreen that activated the ten-second countdown on the dropship bomb.

From the commander's office window, the twins owned a clear view of the explosion far across the compound, lighting up the landing pad that had been blotted out by the blizzard. The burst of flame lingered, glinting off the debris of the ship and the destroyed steel-frame landing pad, and then dulled to a sad bonfire waiting to be smothered by the wintry onslaught. Ares felt little satisfaction, like breaking a wheelchair-bound woman's legs. Who really cared when there was no delight in the pain, no one to share the failure of their protection with, no one to be destroyed and defeated other than the pitiful civilians? A glance at his sister's face showed the same attempted joy that seemed to fall flat.

"Fear not, sister. We still have our dear traitor here…and we still have Birse. Let's make him welcome. When we're through with him, he'll rather eat out his own heart than live another second in our capable, caring hands."

"Indeed, brother. I've no tolerance for those who don't play the game fair."

-

* * *

-

The three pirates shivered more from fear than the frigid weather, moving slowly in a loose spearhead formation, eyes darting in every direction from over their scarf-covered muzzles. Gloved fingers twitched against their triggers, rifles shouldered and sights aligned, their aim following every suspicious movement in the blinding blizzard that had only intensified since the battle. It provided them little comfort that the exosuit had been destroyed; Hellion had sent them out to investigate the wreckage near the outpost at the other end of the command center's courtyard, and to kill the enemy operator. But it wasn't the suit that had caused the pirates fear; it was the soldier still lingering somewhere in the compound, the soldier that had fought that far.

The firelight of the burning exosuit could be seen from the command center door and the pirates had started straight for it. On a clear day, the courtyard was a thirty-second walk at most. But with knee-deep snow, more falling from the heavens, and an uncertain enemy on the loose, the slow, tense trudge dragged for five minutes. At last, the avian pirate leading the detail raised his hand to signal a cautious approach and inched toward the wreckage, no more than forty feet away.

The desolate quiet weighed on them as they stopped moving; only the flicker of fire and the whistle of wind. Desperate to get back to the command center, the avian brought his hand to his HUD earpiece. "Inspection detail to base: nothing out here, just that suit, blown to hell. We're coming back to—"

The report ended with a choked shriek as the snow between him and the wreckage exploded up like a deadly geyser.

-

Gage burst from where he lay beneath the cold cover of snow, leaping to his feet in ambush. Before the tossed snow could even fall back to the lot, Gage grappled the shocked avian in the lead and spun him around into a tight headlock. His hand found the pirate's assault rifle, ripped it away, and fired one-handed at the other enemies, dropping the first before he could react. The second pirate fired wildly in surprise, allowing Gage to take a second to recover from firing the rifle with one weary arm and loose a second burst that dropped the shooter. Without a need for his struggling feathered shield anymore, Gage tightened his grip and jerked his left arm hard, snapping the pirate's neck. The body crumpled to the snow and his rifle followed.

Gage reached down and took the avian's HUD from his lolling head. In the firelight, he could see it was a cheap model popular with thugs; much shorter feature list than military-grade eyepieces, including lack of thermal and targeting sensors. A glorified walkie-talkie, Gage always thought. Regardless, he slipped it into his breast pocket and stepped over the corpse.

He allowed a moment for his eyes to rove the horizon and found the hellish mess of flame burning like a beacon in the blizzard beyond a row of low buildings that bordered the compound. A pit formed in his stomach; he had heard the blast while hiding and had feared the worst. He always knew Hellion would kill the hostages. He always knew his decision was based on Beltino's reasoning, that playing by Hellion's rules would never take them down. But no amount of rationalization allayed the pit in his gut; all he could do was force his eyes away from the silent light.

The fox strode through the snow to the command center's rusted insulation-designed double-doors. As he stepped up the short cement staircase, he reached to the small of his back and drew his handgun, the only equipment he brought besides the Paladin, stowed in the suit's emergency first-aid kit compartment above the buttocks…after he had removed the first-aid kit to make room. He'd rather pack firepower than bandages any day.

And this gun was going with him no matter what.

He could have taken the rifles from the guards, but he trusted the handgun more than he would an entire squad of allies at his side. He leaned against the wall beside the door, frigid wind numbing his face, and brought the SEC-29, clasped in both hands, to rest against his forehead and upper muzzle. Eyes closed, he let his left forefinger find the etched phoenix on the cold frame and trace its fiery wings. It was the closest to prayer he had found himself in a long time.

When his breath had evened and his concentration was such that the storm was nothing more than a detached factor of battle, he lashed his leg to his side and kicked in the decayed front door, staying behind cover. Lasers instantly lanced through the empty doorway from jittery pirates, cutting up the concrete landing and snowy lot. Gage just watched and listened for the four seconds the ineffectual onslaught lasted.

_Four shooters…two above, two below, top two in the center, bottom two to the sides…no reloading…two tops with Cornerian SXR-82 rifles, left with a R&K repeater, and right a Venomian T-20. All with no more than a quarter mag left. T-20 most inaccurate, pirate on left slowest to react._

Placing the pirates in his mental readout of the command center reception area blueprint, Gage pulled the pistol trigger halfway and tensed his wrist. Like a ghost only hinting at its existence, he whipped his head and arm from cover just long enough to fire two shots at the leftmost pirate he knew to be there. His eye guided his snap aiming well enough to put the shots in the pirate's forehead, dropping him to the discolored floor. As expected, his buddies laid on the trigger and didn't let up. And as expected, their sloppy coordination saw all three run out of ammo and get stuck reloading without at least providing covering fire.

When the familiar click of an empty gun met his ears, Gage stepped around into the reception rotunda to find them scrambling to load new energy mags. Prioritizing targets, he looked up to the second tier of the room over the rotunda desk and put three shots into the chest and head of one rifleman. His ear caught hints that the T-20 man to the right, crouching on the curved stairwell built into the wall that connected the two tiers, had finished reloading with a solid clack of the loading catch. Letting his right hand take the pistol solo to get it around faster, Gage loosed another triplet of shots, the one intended for the head sparking against the rifle frame. As the pirate shrieked and fell back injured from the other two shots, his killer put two more into him to put him down for good.

Only four seconds had passed since Gage stormed in, but each moment counted and the unlucky shot blocked by the rifle gave the third pirate enough time to think about moving. Gage was able to fire two shots up at him but he crouched behind the solid steel balustrade, shielded by the unfortunately well-built decorative plates between the posts. Gage kept the iron sights trained just above the handrail and frowned in thought, his ears perked for any indication that he was sliding to change his position.

"You're the only one left," the fox said after a minute of the standoff. "I don't blame you for not shooting back.

_Exit door to the far right, open. Left door closed. He'll go right._

Gage shifted his sights to the space between where the pirate crouched and the exit to the right side of the upper tier, estimating the point where his head would pop up if he broke into a run from a crouch. "You know who I am. You know what I did to your comrades."

_Probable blindfire. Risk acceptable._

"You know what I'll do to you."

That got him.

His already frayed nerves shattered, the pirate broke cover and sprinted for the right exit door, loosing a wild flurry of fire toward the bottom floor without even looking. Gage didn't even twitch as the lasers darted around him, just waited for his opening. A single laser bore through the pirate's head, dropping him in mid sprint with a wet flop to the ground.

Gage lowered the pistol. "But knowing's only half the battle."

Walking past reception to the corridors leading deeper into the command center, Gage ejected the SEC-29 energy clip and glanced at the power level. He had counted his shots but he had to be sure beyond doubt.

One shot left. And near-zero percent chance of misfire, as Fara always boasted to him and Fox…

…as if that makes up for the crappy power, Gage remembered himself responding, grinning at the retort. The grin only lasted as long as the short memory that brought her face to mind. According to Fox, she had defended the pistol's abilities and negligible misfire rate on their mission together to Project Siren. Afterwards, the stubborn defense of her gun lost its charm, the fact that she was mentally programmed to prefer it always tainting the memories. But now, Gage only saw the phoenix etch, the defiant scarring of the mass-produced uniform item that all Sirens wielded, the symbol of a simple codeword that gave her an essential identity. SEC-29 or not, he couldn't imagine ever wanting to use another handgun.

"One shot left," he said aloud, "and we both know who gets it."

Keeping the pistol clenched at his side, he continued on in search of Ares.

Knowing Hellion's arrogance, Gage figured they'd base themselves in the former base commander's office, but he only found another portable terminal and a metal chair stained with blood. A heavy must of sweat lingered in the room, probably Laren's...and hopefully, a little of Hellion's. Gage scanned the room and stepped to the terminal to see if any camera feeds could locate the twins but instead the holoscreen displayed a few lines of text:

_We danced so well for so long_

_But every song must come to an end_

_Come to the barracks so we can finish the dance_

_Lylat will always provide us new partners._

-

* * *

-

Gage's footsteps echoed from the solid walls stained by years of dirty frost melting and re-icing in occupation and absence. Empty doorways passed on both sides as he walked down the long corridor; small, dark personnel bedrooms for administrative staff. He kept his peripheral vision sharp for ambushes yet his eyes were glued to the door facing him at the end of the hall. Living quarters break room, if he remembered the blueprints right. No exit.

Gage cracked a grin. The twins thought they were funneling him into their controlled environment, but their confidence didn't faze him. All he saw was the end of the line, one way or another.

Without a moment's hesitation, Gage activated the door and stepped inside when it hissed open.

A mild darkness shrouded the room, not pitch black yet enough to obscure and mask the various shadowed figures before him. With the lights off as they were, the room would have been dark as a closed coffin if not for the three enveloping walls of the break room being constructed mostly of large windows showing a panoramic vista of Fortuna's frozen lowlands. The scarce light, barely breaking through the violent storm, revealed a generously-sized recreation room for a military base, though few pieces of furniture remained to identify it as such: a table to the left, a few overturned chairs in a heap to the right, a couple groups of rusted vending machines in the corners where the window-walls met. Another of Frostburn's portable terminals had been hooked up near the left near the table, now dark.

But Gage's eyes remained forward, locked on three figures silhouetted against the window behind them, the fierce blizzard raging around the room as if they were in the midst of a white tornado. His hand tightened around his SEC-29.

"Right through the door," Ares said, his voice breaking the eerie silence. "No gun raised, no flashbangs, no peeking around the corner, not even a courteous knock. I like that. I like a man so engulfed he only sees himself as a thing to transport vengeance."

The lights flickered on, revealing two pirates to Gage's right and left, both aiming rifles at their guest. The one who turned on the light skirted back a couple steps to gain some distance. The fox paid them little heed, his eyes on Ares, Eris, and the bloody, beaten Laren shielding them, his hands cuffed behind his back. The jackal looked at him, swallowed, and averted his eyes.

"I let hostages die to get to you," Gage growled. "You think putting a washed-up CDIA agent in front of you will keep me from shooting?"

"Not at all! But perhaps while you're riddling him with lasers my two simple yet effective friends over there will do me the pleasure of killing you."

Gage eyeballed the pirates flanking him. "You don't want to kill me yourself?"

"Oh, we'd love nothing more," Eris breathed. "But if push comes to shove…we'd be happy just watching you squirm and die. We're not soldiers like Dagger, we're…oh, what's the best way to put it, brother?"

"Hmm…interactive death voyeurs?"

"Perfect!"

"What do you think, sister? Will he force us to shoot him, or will he be a good boy and surrender so we can have a long, hearty goodbye? Our traitor was fun as a warm-up…but I think Birse here would be even more enjoyable."

Gage glanced at Laren and hid his own impatience. Beltino had said that the jackal would help in some way but so far all he'd done was stain the floors with blood. But like the inscrutable Toad himself, Laren wasn't one to put all his cards on the table outright, at least not from what Gage could gather from the enraging manipulation during the Artemis Tower raid. Though he couldn't tell whether Laren was truly defeated or just biding his time, Gage gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"You know, brother, I don't think we and Gagey have ever been in the same room together. Brrr!" Eris shivered with an excited face and a wide smile. "Gives me chills!"

"You forget Redgrove, sister, when we had him chained to that fountain and he somehow slipped out of our fingers."

"This is different, brother. He can't get away from us this time. No unfair escaping."

"True, sister." Ares cocked an eyebrow. "You didn't forget Redgrove, did you, cappy? Oh, I remember your face when we told you that man we had you fight and kill was a captive pilot. Hmm…looked something like that face you have now, only more…spontaneous. I see you've become more comfortable with dead civilians since that little encounter."

Gage's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, lighten up, Birse! Why are things so tense between us? I bet if you really got to know us we'd all be bestest friends. Why not put down the gun and join us for a beer?"

"Thanks, but I'd rather avoid your hospitality."

Ares glanced at Laren. "Who, him? Nah, just some friendly razzing, a little rap on the knuckles for being a dirty traitor. If he's lucky we may just cut off an arm or two rather than taking his other eye."

"Wouldn't that be nice, cutey?" Eris cooed, inching in close behind Laren. "Who says we can't be merciful?"

The agent slowly looked up, straight at Gage; his battered frame and tired face belied the piercing, strong gaze he flashed, gaining his ally's attention. He closed his eyes and bowed his head again, but a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.

"There he goes again," Ares sighed. "You're doing a lot of laughing for a dead man, traitor."

The jackal's voice game with a reserved strength that matched his previous glance. "You were right. Whenever I blink over this false eye it reminds me of what I had to do to infiltrate Hellion. It also kept me focused on finding you again."

The twins laughed and Eris caressed the back of his head in mock sympathy. "You should've gone with the biometric sight implants; our second meeting ain't going too well for you either."

"I never cared if it did or not…as long as it didn't end well for you."

Laren raised his head again, this time with both eyes open in a glare made fierce by the glowing red retina in the false eye, an angry color that bathed his face and seemed to wash over the room. Gage's own eyes went large in surprise, the jackal's glare boring into him as if begging him not to waste this opportunity. His teeth bared, Laren's right eye opened as wide as it could and his head whipped back, slamming against Eris's forehead. Gage realized the attack wasn't to attack Eris but rather to use her as a hard surface; the impact jarred the false eye loose and sent it rolling over the jackal's muzzle to the ground. Laren clenched his other eye shut and nestled his ears against his shoulders as best he could.

Gage got the message; he'd seen enough explosions and reactions in his time.

Time seemed to slow, only the barrage of snow beyond the windows racing by with uncaring regard.

The eye exploded in a blinding flash of light and a noise only made louder by the near-empty room. Gage had expected a normal explosion but he quickly rolled with the flashbang's effect. Before the stunned pirates could even blink, he barreled his shoulder into the one on his right, knocking him to the ground as easily as a dead sapling. Wrenching the rifle from the pirate's hands, he fired from a prone position at the other dazed pirate and dropped him with a long burst to the abdomen and chest.

The first pirate reacted faster than Gage thought, giving him only enough time to glimpse Laren kicking Eris in the gut. The pirate snatched the SEC-29 Gage had dropped for the rifle and tried to bring it into play, only to have its owner swat it away to clatter on the floor. Still pressing the attack, he followed the fox to his feet and lunged at him, struggling for the rifle. The two combatants pulled, muzzle to muzzle, eyes locked, until Gage capitalized on his enemy's subpar skill. Using the pirate's own momentum, he twisted the rifle up and drove his knee into his gut, giving him the edge he needed to wrench the gun free of the opposing grip. The fiery bloodlust in the eyes turned to fear for only a moment; Gage beaded the iron sights between the eyes and fired, closing them for good.

"Birse!"

Laren's voice rose above the rush of blood in his ears. Gage snapped his head toward the center of the room and his blood froze.

Ares' crazed expression of violent giddiness beamed at him behind the sights of his own retrieved SEC-29.

One shot left…

Gage's heart wrenched; even as he desperately tried, he knew he wouldn't get his rifle around in time.

But something did get to the tiger in time, hurling through the shadows. Laren barreled into his nemesis, putting all his strength into his shoulder with his hands out of commission. The shocked Ares went down and the pistol slid away out of reach, but that didn't stop the jackal's assault. He brought his foot back as if warming up the game-winning field goal and booted him in the stomach, again and again, until Gage heard two wet snaps of rib's breaking. Drained and panting, looking ready to collapse himself, Laren gave one last kick to the face that sprayed the cold metal floor with a spurt of blood. Ares writhed but stayed down, his sister looking no better sitting on the floor, hands over her broken nose, blood streaming between her fingers.

_It's over…it's over…_

_ Almost…_

Gage tossed the rifle away and joined Laren in the center of the room where the jackal looked at Ares and Eris in turn, his expression a paradox of victory and unquenched vengeance. He glanced at Gage with his one remaining eye and nodded, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself as he crouched and took the handcuff keys from Ares' pocket.

"I lied, Birse," Laren uttered, "back in Artemis Tower. I said I'd be just as happy if you defeated Hellion. But when Beltino offered the idea…I had to take it, I had to help in some way. I had to be here to see this."

Gage nodded solemnly. "Pretty resourceful with that eye. What if it didn't pop out all the way when you hit Eris?"

"I would've died, gladly. At least I would've helped take them down."

As Laren watched over Hellion, both twins quiet ostensibly because of the pain but probably because they didn't want to face them, Gage walked over to the silent portable terminal and booted it up. With the orange glow lighting the room further, he brought up camera feeds and began scrolling through them, trying to find if the one for the landing pad still worked.

"After Artemis Tower, I didn't know what to expect here," Laren continued, slouched a bit from his own injuries. "Just getting you to see reason and leave two of your teammates alone was a battle. I half thought you wouldn't show, or you'd try to save the hostages and Hellion would get away like always. But these two have a way of changing people. I'm sorry they had to change you also, but if that's what had to be done…so be it."

"Do you respect me more now that I've 'changed' and was willing to let hostages die? Is that it?"

Laren sensed the bitterness and shot a glance at the fox's back. "You want the truth?"

"That would be a change from you."

"The truth is, your attitude on Macbeth got in my way so I had to stomp it down. But that doesn't mean I didn't respect it in its own right. I don't use my authority to reroute airstrikes for just anybody." He paused. "I'm sorry you had to give up the same part of yourself that I lost a long time ago fighting Hellion."

Gage found the camera feed near the landing pad security checkpoint, still functioning, and let out a short sigh through his nose. The pad was covered in wreckage and fire, the destruction mercilessly shown in full effect by the orange-tinted holoscreen. But the sigh was not the same sudden wrenching of the gut he felt when the transport first exploded. Rather, it hinted relief…relief at the lack of charred, mangled, or severed bodies.

"That's right, Birse," Ares gurgled from the floor, cackling through the pain. "Even after all you did, we still won. We proved Dagger wrong. Hellion wins…" The laugh rose. "Hellion always wins!"

But when Gage turned from the monitor, a grin pulled at the corners of his muzzle.

He pulled the HUD he had taken off the pirate corpse from his pocket and hooked it over his ear, punching in an encoded channel to find once the piece was secured. His next wave of relief came when the channel synchronization request was answered and matched. Laren looked on, quizzical, with both sets of Hellion eyes gazing warily.

"Give me some good news, Starlet."

_"Good to hear your voice, boss. Hook in to the pad outpost terminal, I think I can say it better with just one word."_

"Already online, go ahead."

Gage turned and opened the audio receiver between the two terminals just as a female leopardess in winter battle dress and snow stuck to her fur stepped into view and walked up to the screen. Noticing Hellion still alive on the ground, Ley smiled, cleared her throat as if preparing a big speech, and belted one gloating word in the tigers' direction.

"Gotcha!"

Laren and the twins ogled the screen while Gage just smiled back at his teammate.

"What's the report?" the Dagger captain asked.

"Resistance was light, everything was in chaos thanks to you. We had a clear window; guess you had Hellion fooled. Close call though. A few more minutes and we would've been fried. Tien's looking after the hostages."

"Are they okay?"

"Every one of 'em."

Gage nodded and glanced at Hellion, glimpsing faces of such distorted reaction he couldn't tell whether they were about to laugh it off or scream like madmen. "Switch back to private." He turned the terminal off and waited for the click in his ear to signal the private line was reestablished. While he spoke, he walked away from the crowded center area with his back turned for some privacy. "Thanks for coming with me on this. Tell Tien that also."

_"I meant what I said; we'd follow you into hell if you asked to do what's right. I'm just glad you came to your senses."_

"Yeah, well, your right hook made a good argument."

_"We're all gonna catch hell for this from CASOC, but it was worth it. Tien's established a link with the Katinian recon ships, should have transport down momentarily. Bet they got a good show up there."_

Gage paused, lips pursed, eyes staring unfocused at the bare wall before him. "Laren will be there soon. I'll find my own way off-planet."

_"What? Say again?"_

Ever since he left the Vanguard he knew what he would say when the time came, even rehearsed a few parts, yet the words did not come easily. Before he landed he knew he had a fight ahead of him, something he could keep focused on, something he had a good chance of not living through…but now there was no escaping from the choice he had to make. And no turning back from whichever path he chose.

"There's still something I have to do," he began slowly. "As far as Dagger's concerned the mission's complete. But from here on, I'm not Dagger."

_"Boss, what are you—"_

"You've been a great friend and a great soldier, Erica. Look after the team. It couldn't be in more capable hands." Before she could speak again, Gage clicked the HUD off and pulled it from his ear. He summoned Laren with a flick of his fingers and handed it to him, saying, "Go meet them at the pad and do what it takes to make sure they don't come after me."

Laren took the HUD, his expression mystified at first but becoming more understanding as the fox ripped the Dagger patch from his sleeve and handed it over along with the HUD. Gage placed the patch in his palm but his fingers lingered on it, hesitant to let it go. When they finally did, the fox's face reflected a twinge of pain before he continued.

"Tell CASOC my team was following my orders without any knowledge of unsanctioned activity. I don't care what Ley and Tien say to the contrary, make sure I get full blame. I'm sure you and Toad will cook up your own story."

The jackal looked at Hellion, then down at the patch and HUD in his hand, knowing what his rescuer intended to do. "Could it be Powalski was right about you?"

Gage took Laren's handcuffs and stepped toward Ares, his eyes darkening. "He was partly right. I kill for a purpose, but…I'll enjoy this. Give me an hour to finish up here before you send in the cavalry to collect what's left."

Laren lingered for a few moments; at first Gage thought he might protest to not being allowed to finish off Ares and Eris himself, but he made no mention of it and finally turned away with a nod, as if satisfied that whatever the fox chose to do with them would be good enough for him. His footsteps retreated to the door and, before the rusty metal slid shut and sealed Gage in with hellion, Laren offered a final farewell:

"For what it's worth, Birse, you and your team's dedication to hostage priority is…humbling."

-

The struggling Fortunian sunlight provided light but no warmth as Gage stood by the window, half-lost in the unfolding blizzard, a pirate's Macbethian handgun twirling by its trigger guard around his index finger. He felt he had to take a moment to appreciate the weight that had been released with the stripping of the Dagger patch. He felt naked, aimless, yet somehow unburdened. A goal had been reached; Dagger had defeated Hellion. Dagger had lost many battles against the twins but in the end, the war was won and honor was upheld. Dagger had defeated Hellion.

And now Gage Birse was free to kill them.

He grasped the pistol grip, halting the rapid twirl, the labored, nervous breathing of the twins rising and falling behind him. Two sets of eyes glared at him as he turned around, insane hate masking unfamiliar fear. Ares sat on the floor, handcuffed to the bolted metal table leg while his sister sat facing him on one of the metal chairs fifteen feet away, her wrists cuffed behind the chairback. Gage had also torn Eris' ripped sleeve off and bound her muzzle shut with it to keep her silent.

"Let's play a game, Ares," the fox said, moseying back and forth between the siblings.

The tiger's muzzle spread in a maniacal grin as if he were about to break out laughing.

"You said a little while ago that I wasn't playing fair. Maybe you're right. But if you two do play fair that means every trap you ever set for Dagger had some kind of solution. You don't know how many nights I've spent awake trying to figure out what I could've done differently to stop you. See…I really, really want to know. So you're going to tell me."

Ares chest convulsed as he tried to contain laughter.

"I like your confidence, Ares. Because if you can't give me an answer or if your answer isn't in line with Dagger ethics, I'm going to give a little reprimand. Get it?"

Heavy, laugh-laden breaths escaped Ares' muzzle as he said, "Fuck…you!"

Gage returned a grin and stood still in front of the tiger. "Artemis Thirteen. Fourteen hostages. On-site intel delivers a direct objective. But a bomb trap was planted in a dead hostage's mouth which gave no more fifteen seconds to somehow free fourteen restrained people and evacuate the area. So tell me…without the benefit of twenty-twenty hindsight, what could a rescue team have done to save those hostages?"

Ares barked another laugh and spit a bloody wad of saliva on his captor's boot. "Those meatbags were dead the second we got our hands on 'em! They were just live bait! There was nothing any of you drones could've done."

Gage slowly nodded. "I was afraid of that."

With one smooth motion, he stepped back, whipping the pistol around, and fired a single shot into Eris' right knee, blasting a spray of blood to the floor. Ares choked on his laughter and his jaw dropped at the sight and sound of his sister writhing, her muffled cries of pain echoing through the room.

"Strike one."

Ares' face contorted in rage and personal pain, as if the shot injured him as well through his bond with Eris. His mouth worked silently like an animal chomping at the bit for a kill. "You…you goddamm…" The crazed laughter built up within him again. "I'm gonna…suck your blood through your eye socket…I'm…I'm gonna…rip your throat out and…and…dive into your fucking chest and eat your heart while it's…!"

"Oh, come on now, you're not being a poor sport are you? You always said Dagger was such sore losers when we lost our teammates and hostages to you. Why don't you show me what a good sport you are?" Gage grinned and strummed his fingers on his arm. "Let's see now, so many atrocities to choose from…ah, here we are. Let's keep things personal."

Gage glanced at Eris, her breathing heavy and her forehead soaked with pain-induced sweat. "Not looking too good; pay attention now. Let's fast forward to Redgrove, Zoness. Remember when you had me chained to the fountain in that dead town and you freed me just long enough to put on a little show for you and your pirate buddies? You said one of your men wanted to fight me. I was all too happy to oblige. But in the end I killed a captive Cornerian pilot you made up to be a pirate. I didn't like that…I didn't like that at all. But how could I have known? What could I do with a seeming enemy trying to kill me?"

"You couldn't know," Ares snorted. "That was the point! That was the fun! Why don't you see how goddamn _funny_ it was?!"

Gage's eyes narrowed. "I'm not laughing."

Light and sound hit the room like lightning again and Eris screamed on a closed muzzle, another laser tearing into her other kneecap. The chair rattled against the floor as she struggled in pain. Before an enraged Ares could curse him again, Gage grabbed his throat and loomed over him, their noses almost touching and their eyes locked into each other. The tigress' cries played a morbid backdrop to his rumbling voice.

"You better start really trying! I don't think your sister is appreciating your effort! Last chance!"

He expected venom in return but Ares only quaked beneath his hand from rage and maybe even a little fear battling through his insane eyes. Gage drank it in, every bit of Hellion's fear and suffering, but it wasn't enough. He knew what his final question would be and no matter how much Hellion blood he spilled, nothing dulled the pain of bringing it up. He didn't bother backing off; he kept Ares face to face as he spoke in a deep, heavy voice.

"You go about your life and everything's fine. You wanted more at one point but you taught yourself to let it go. Then one day it comes to you and you don't have a choice to resist it. It's just there and before you know it, it's inside you and you can't let it go. And you don't want to anymore."

Gage's throat tightened for a moment and his eyes began to blur. He realized with shock that he had never spoken about Fara this openly to anyone else before. Whether from some sense of completion or the exhaustion of his vengeance, everything he had tried to keep bottled since her death threatened to break the barriers at once. But he managed to keep control with only one faltering tear breaking free and streaming down his cheek. The hated face before him brought him back.

"And then soon a couple of worthless, soulless, piece of shit monsters continue to pollute life by taking it away from you. Worse, they trick you into doing it yourself. And you're helpless. All you can do is watch the suffering and do what you can to ease her mind. But it's not enough. All your training, all your experience, all your conviction…it's not enough. And in the end she's gone. You'll never know whether you could've helped, whether she ever found peace before she died. You'll never know whether she ever truly forgave you." He paused. "Well, Ares? How do I fix it?"

Ares stared up at him as he released his throat and stood once more. The tiger's gaze darted from Gage's face to the pistol to his sister then back. He swallowed, any trace of mad humor gone. Eris agonized eyes met his and she whimpered through her gag.

"It's your own fault!" Ares shouted, struggling against his cuffs. "You always took everything so damn serious!"

"I won't lose a wink of sleep over this."

"Birse!"

"I want you to know something, Ares. I want you to know that your sister is about to die. Don't fight it, just know it. Let it process a second. I want you to really know how it feels. You're helpless, like I was. There's nothing you can do. She's going to die."

"Don't…don't kill her…"

Gage met his fearful eyes and stood stone still. He let the twins' heavy breathing soak up the room, count down the nerve-wracking seconds that passed.

And the lightning struck a final blow.

"No!"

Eris' head whipped back and stayed there, blood dripping to the floor from the gaping hole in her cranium, her lifeless body finally still.

Ares gaped at her like a child witnessing his first disaster of the many that would trouble him in life. He tried to reach out to her, forgetting his hands were restrained as Gage stepped back to give him a good view. But when he spoke, Gage stopped and looked back at him, a cold shiver running up his spine.

"Annie?"

The name jarred him, something far too normal to belong to someone as twisted as Eris. But that name combined with the almost emotional look on her brother's face made him look no different than anyone else shocked by a sudden loss, maybe even no different than Gage himself had been when he heard of Fara's death. Gage found himself staring and forced himself to see past it. With his memories of what they'd done in their lives, it wasn't a hard change. Nothing erased the nightmares the twins had unleashed upon Lylat.

As Ares sat in his shocked vigil, Gage dropped the pistol and retrieved his SEC-29 from where it had laid since being knocked from the tiger's hand. The engraved phoenix's hard-etched trenches caught the dim light and shone as if lit from its own white flame.

_One shot left…and we both know who gets it._

Gage stepped back to his prisoner and waited until the tiger's eyes rose to meet his. Ares glanced at the gun and, knowing what was coming, cracked a grin. He laughed humorlessly under his breath, his expression seeming more as if it was about to cry, assuming there was any capability of feeling inside him. He leaned back against the table leg, drained, his voice even yet interrupted by spurts of giggling.

"She always just wanted me to laugh. So go ahead, make me happy. Go ahead and kill me."

"I know you want to die now that your other half is dead. You made sure I knew what that felt like. You don't know if there's an afterlife where you'll be with her again, but you figure taking a chance on that is better than living without her. And even if there's no afterlife, at least a dead nothingness is better than this painful void. Yes, I know. Which is exactly why I'm not going to kill you. I want you to suffer as much as possible, living in a windowless cell with the one thing you ever cared about destroyed. You can suffer from now until you're eighty and it still won't repay the pain you've caused to the people of Lylat…"

Gage raised the pistol to his shoulder and swiped at Ares' incredulous face, striking his temple with a solid _thock_ and knocking him cold to his side.

"…but it's a start."

-

Gage sat on a cold metal chair, face to the storm, the dripping of Eris' blood to the spreading puddle having ceased minutes before to leave him in silence. Every motion of the SEC-29 in his hand echoed loud as his own thoughts in his head, every shuffle and scrape against his glove, every breath he took in and let out. He shifted the gun around in his palms as if examining it for the first time…maybe just checking for defects…maybe just delaying time…

Killing Eris hadn't done anything. The high of seeing Ares in pain, the satisfaction of knowing Hellion was done for good, that Ares would live with loss for however long he survived in Cornerian custody with vengeful CDIA and military enemies "guarding" him…none of it made a difference.

Dagger won the day.

Gage lost everything.

This had always been the plan, to give to himself what he denied Ares…if, when the dust settled, he saw life after Hellion and wanted no more of it. If he saw the endless loop of death and false hope and wanted instead to take that chance, that miniscule chance that Fara waited for him on the other side, a chance that he couldn't find in this life. He was no stranger to torment, but in the past he always had Dagger to return to; his friends, his family, his purpose, his conviction. But he had lost that also. With his record, he could probably get away with a slap on the wrist for going after Hellion, especially since the hostages survived. He might even be able to talk his way out of killing Eris in cold blood, with Laren's help.

But he couldn't make himself forget it. Couldn't slap himself on the wrist and push aside what he did…and what he came far too close to doing, if Ley hadn't stopped him.

Without Fara, there was only Dagger, and without Dagger there was only a bestial murderer. A Leon. An Ares. The opposite side of the same coin which just happened to win the toss.

So without both, there was nothing.

His final breath shuddering in his throat, Gage pressed the end of the SEC-29 barrel up under his muzzle and closed his eyes, his finger cold against the trigger. He paused but stayed steady.

_One last shot…and we both know who gets it._

-

**_-Chapter 27 Coming Soon-_**


	34. The Empty Coffin

[Author's Note: I really didn't want this chapter to take so long to post but let's just say the past few weeks have been fraught with power outages, trying to coordinate a move, and the difficulty of getting this chapter the way I wanted it. Now I know I left something of a cliffhanger last chapter which wouldn't be a problem for someone reading this story through continuously, but for those following my updates right now, I have good news. You won't have to wait long for the conclusion. I've been working extra hard and this chapter is just the first of three updates over the next week or so, which will finish One Death Away. So expect the next chapter in three or four days. Thanks for reading everyone and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

-

CHAPTER 27  
The Empty Coffin  
_Corneria City suburbs_  
_1933 hours_

-

"Daddy's home!"

The hydraulic sigh of the front door had not woken Fox, but the deep, confident call of his father had. He sat bolt upright, his cheek numb from where he had been napping for the past hour – a chair at the kitchen table, his school text book acting as his rigid pillow. The paragraphs and pages of Cornerian history, concoctions of boredom for a boy of nine years, were forgotten at the sound of his father. Vicenzia McCloud stepped into the kitchen, a smile on her muzzle, as Fox hopped up from the chair and ran to greet his father.

"There's my little man!" James McCloud dropped his duffel bag and hoisted up his son with a grunt of effort. He held him in the crook of his arm and let the boy squeeze him around the neck while he tousled his head fur. "You take good care of your mother while I was away?"

"Uh huh!" Fox let go of his father's neck and whispered. "She's making me do homework."

"Oh yeah? What kind?"

"History. Lots of it."

"History was my favorite subject." He lowered his son to the floor and reached for his bag. "Anything interesting?"

"No. Just some old prince who killed his parents to make himself king or something."

"Oh, getting funny ideas, huh? Well, your mom and I got our eyes on you." James poked Fox in the stomach, provoking a squeal of laughter. He winked at Vicenzia, who had come to join them. "Well if your mother wouldn't mind a little break, I have a gift for you."

Fox's eyes lit up and he looked back at his mother.

She sighed and said, "Your father's a day late, I suppose another minute won't matter."

James knelt and rummaged in his bag. "Close your eyes."

Fox obeyed, but tried to slit his eyelids ever so slightly. He still could not make out what his father pulled from the bag. James took Fox's hand and placed something smooth, metallic, and heavier than expected in his hand. Fox tried to close his fist around it, but his fingers were met with sharp pricks. With a shiver of anticipation, he opened his eyes and took in a slight breath.

"See that, little man? That's the future."

Fox took the model star fighter and turned it around in his palms. It was nearly as long as one hand, wrist to finger-tip, and held more ornate detail than any of the dozens of models in Fox's room. The model looked as if it could fly right up into the air and dance above their heads. "Wow…what is it? Are they using it in a movie?"

James shook his head, nearly as enthused as his son. "No, Fox. This is called an Arwing. It's a new type of air and space superiority fighter with unrivaled ship-to-ship maneuvering and even anti-capital ordnance." James raised his brow, proud that his son appeared to have understood what he had said. "One of daddy's friends is developing it for possible military use. But you know what? He says when the prototype is complete, Starfox gets the first batch."

"Wow! Will you take me for a ride in one?"

"You bet."

"Awesome!" Fox dove into his kneeling father and squeezed him around the neck again. After a moment, he slid down and looked at the model in his hands with more of a thoughtful countenance, his eyes shadowed. He spoke, but kept his eyes on the Arwing. "I missed you. You were gone for five days."

James pursed his lips and glanced at his wife. "I know, son. Daddy had a real important job. A man needed help with a big problem."

"Doesn't the military have anyone else?"

James chuckled. He had been trying to explain the concept of the mercenary to Fox for some time, but the boy still considered it military in nature. Part of the older fox thought that his son might simply be rejecting the notion since mercenaries rarely received accolades or even unbiased approach. He and Vicenzia tried their best to keep Fox away from the grim news shows, but they couldn't keep him completely in the dark.

"Come here, Fox." James sat full on the floor and held his son on his knee. "You like Uncle Peppy, right?"

Fox nodded.

"And daddy's friend Pigma?"

Another nod.

"Well, we have our own team and our own rules. Like, uh…like a repairman. Remember that time we had to have that repairman come and fix the heater? Well, it's sort of like that. The military has a problem, and daddy and Peppy and Pigma know how to fix them. You see?"

Fox kept his gaze on the Arwing. "My history book says mercenaries were hired because they kill for money and have no loyalties. Is that what Starfox is?"

James opened his mouth a few times to answer, but could not find the words. Finally, he said, "People earn a living by doing what they do best. Any field has good people and bad people. My work is no different. There are good mercenaries and bad mercenaries. Just remember that your father's with the good guys, alright?"

"What if a bad guy hired you?"

James thought of the simplistic answer: he wouldn't take the job. But listening to his growing son's mature questions, he felt that Fox deserved more than that. "Mistakes are part of life. Sometimes, mistakes can mean the end of life. We accept contracts that appear genuine and serve justice, or ones that do not harm any innocent people. We do all the research we can, but my entire team knows that we risk being lied to. Back when we met, Pigma was with another group. He said he wasn't sure if he could trust me. He said that sometimes you can't recognize a cunning bad guy until it's too late. I couldn't blame him. I wasn't sure I trusted him either at the time. You understand, Fox? It's like any other job. You make mistakes, you have to earn trust in your coworkers, and sometimes you have to take risks even if they lead to more mistakes." James wasn't sure his son was getting it all, and he worried that he was speaking from a darker part of his mood. The job had been difficult, his week long and full of doubts. He lied about one thing; his job was not like any other. It was hard to come home to serenity and love after a week of staring into danger and death. He pepped up his voice. "But you can bet that if I ever found out a man that hired me was a bad guy, I'd go and make it right."

"Seriously?"

"You bet. You know all those thank-you letters people send me that I frame and put in my study upstairs? Only a good guy with good clients would get letters like that, right?"

The reasoning seemed to perk Fox up again and he nodded. His smile returned when his father tickled his stomach and placed him back on his own feet.

James stood and brushed off the seat of his pants. "You mind if I say hello to your mother now?"

Fox shook his head, once again preoccupied with the model.

"Hi Vix," James said in a low voice, taking the vixen by the waist.

"Hi, James," she replied with a grin and a sideways glance at Fox. "You don't think that thing is too sharp for him?"

"No more than half the things he's got in that room of his. Forget about it; I brought home a gift for you, too. I'll show you in the bedroom."

Vicenzia giggled and let his arms bring her closer. They held each other close and kissed, their muzzles locking for long enough to make up for the five-day long absence. Fox waited around, eager to see what this gift was that James brought home for his mother. After a minute, he rolled his eyes, gagged dramatically at the kissing, and ran into the kitchen, the Arwing raised high above his head and soaring majestically.

-

* * *

_three hours later_

-

"James, shh…look. He fell asleep with his head on my lap."

James looked down at his son with a grin, his thumb tapping the lower-volume button on the vidscreen remote in his hand. The voice of the news anchor onscreen faded to nothing, leaving the family in the peace of their white sofa. "Poor kid. Too much studying. Uh oh, take that little Arwing out of his hand before he rolls over on it and stabs himself."

Vixy fished the Arwing from the small fingers and gave it a disapproving frown. "I wish you showed it to me before giving it to him; it's dangerous with all these pointed edges."

"He's grown-up enough for it."

The words seemed to provoke a melancholy deflation in the vixen's demeanor rather than a rebuttal. She stroked the fur between Fox's ears. "Our little boy really is growing up, isn't he? Pretty soon I won't be able to hold him like this."

"He'll always be our son. I just wish I didn't have to be away from home so much. Seems like every time I come back he's a couple inches taller."

"He always looks forward to seeing you again." Vixy twisted her stroking arm to glance at her wristwatch. "Speaking of which, we better get him to bed. Don't want him too tired for your trip into the city tomorrow."

James stood and stretched, a deep groan escaping his muzzle. "I'll take him. Go on ahead and get his pajamas out."

-

Fox's room gave his father comfort, probably moreso than it did the boy himself. For one, its evolution of décor provided him with some insight into his son that he might have missed being away from home for extended periods of time. From baby-blue blanket to deep green comforter, bright wallpaper to darker tones, motherly essentials atop the bedside tables and dressers replaced by models of ships and fighters, posters depicting the types of shows and themes that once furrowed Vixy's brow. It seemed that every time James returned home, Fox had become more complex and the room reflected it.

Secondly, it appeared the boy was taking after his father.

A small fleet of space-faring naval vessels stood guard atop every flat surface in the room, some lighter ones dangling from the ceiling by wire, and even a few ancient water-based schooners and galleons for variety and challenge. The largest, a Cornerian carrier that took up half a dresser-top, sat half-built beside a gathering of parts and glue. The two foxes had made a pact – Fox made his father pinky-swear – that they would only build it together. The model was large and complex enough to even baffle James at times, though his recently busy schedule was more to blame for the ship's extended grounding in drydock.

James nestled his pajama-clad son under the sheets and pulled the comforter up to his chin, trying his best not to stir the boy. But as if sensing foul play trying to rob him of his last few moment's before bedtime, his eyes flickered open and blinked as he caught on to where he was and he simply asked, "Already?"

"'Fraid so, little man." James sat on the edge of the bed and took the metal Arwing from his pocket.

"But I'm not tired."

The elder Fox chuckled and handed the Arwing over to the eager hands reaching for it. "That sure was a lot of snoring for a guy who isn't tired."

"I don't snore!"

"Are you kidding? You could teach the Great Fox's thrusters a thing or two about noise. Heck, I had to take you up to bed here because the neighbors kept calling to complain."

"They did not."

James poked his grinning son in the ribs. "No they didn't, but it's time for bed anyway. You have that history test tomorrow and then I'm picking you up from school so we can spend some time in the city together. How does that sound? Definitely too full a day for a tired little man."

Fox kept his eyes lowered at the Arwing in his hands, its gleaming surfaces playing with the light as he rolled it around. A frown crept onto his muzzle.

"What's the matter? Don't you like the city?"

"It's not that. It's this stupid test."

"Can't remember dates? Names?"

Fox shook his head. "I can do that, I just can't follow what's going on. It's all this medieval stuff and kings with the same name and this one who left and came back and left again. It all the same junk."

James remembered the boy mentioning a regicidal king when they first greeted each other and dusted off his own mental youth spent fascinated by history. "King Aldus IV, right?"

Another nod.

"Yeah, that time period can get a little jumbled. What part are you stuck on?"

Fox sighed disinterestedly, more absorbed in the Arwing, another lesson probably the last thing he wanted. "I dunno. I mean, I know he was doing things the guys beneath him didn't like so he ran away when he found out they'd try to dispose him—"

"Depose."

"Yeah, depose him. So then his son Henry took over but his father was still out there somewhere so people were divided and then the king came back with an army but didn't fight, and…I dunno, none of it makes sense."

James chuckled. "If you think it's bad now, just wait until high school when you have to read all those old plays based on this king. That battle for the crown inspired dozens of plays, hundreds of variations and tales, most of them pure fiction. A few movies too. But it doesn't have to be boring or confusing; textbooks just seem to be written that way. Try to imagine it more vividly"

Fox scrunched his brow. "How?"

The older fox thought for a few moments, wondering how to succinctly word an epic. "Well, think of it this way. King Aldus escaped into exile because he abused power and his dukes were tired of it and rallied their provinces. All that's historically certain after that is that eight years later, when his son the new King Henry was twenty-four, reports came in that Aldus had raised an army of loyalists to take back the crown. Henry rode with his own army to meet them, but when they arrived, Aldus ordered his own troops to stand down. He then rode out to meet his son. They stood alone between the two armies for nearly an hour, talking about God knows what. And then Aldus knelt and offered Henry his head to chop off. You follow all that?"

Fox nodded slowly, his lips pursed in thought. "But why'd he do that? Aldus, I mean."

"There's no real truth to be certain of, no more than we could ever know what they talked about for an hour. That's why people wrote plays and ballads, to give their own spin. Some retellings say they embraced before the king knelt, others say they laughed or cried. One of the more popular evolutions is the story of a hooded man who was spied every now and then watching over the boy as he grew up, shadowing caravans, watching him from treetops, the 'ghost of the dishonored father; so they said. Some plays follow this character rather than Henry, adding in parts where Aldus poses as a disfigured swordmaster to train his own son and fulfill his…fatherly duties, I suppose. Most of the time he's depicted as a regretful, kind man who just wants his son to do better on the throne than he did. And in the end he meets his son face to face to see what kind of man he is, then offers his life to secure Henry's place as king."

Fox's weary eyes had perked up a little as his father spoke and even the Arwing had settled still in his fingers. "Is any of that true?"

James shrugged. "Who knows? Stuffy professors can't agree on much. The fiction may be a little out there, but most of it is based on some kind of fact. Most accounts from the king's court say he was a nice man but a flawed king. The young Henry did somehow learn more swordsmanship than his teachers taught him. And Aldus kept his face hidden when the two met, but with a full-plate helmet rather than a hood. He never before wore a fully covered helmet."

He stayed silent as his son gazed into nothing with distant, thoughtful eyes. Though he knew the boy needed his sleep, he couldn't help but enjoy the impromptu bedtime story, the precious extra minutes it gave him to spend time with him. James also felt a bit of pride that his son seemed to be genuinely involved in the story once the constraints of textbooks were taken away, his mind rolling the events around with interest rather than scholarly requirement.

His brow still wrinkled in the thought, Fox raised his eyes and tilted his head as if something still troubled him. "Why did he hide his face? Henry already knew what he looked like."

James blinked and shifted where he sat, not expecting the question. It was one of those questions where the answer seemed obvious but upon closer inspection he wondered if a young boy could understand. "Well…I think…you know, no one can really know what he was thinking…"

"Why do you think he did it then?"

"Well…" James searched for the words and his eyes finally alit at an idea. "Do you remember when you were caught cheating and the principal had to call your mother in? And when I came home I heard about it too?"

Fox gave a solemn nod.

"You stood there when I came in to talk to you and I had to tell you four times to look up at me but you kept looking down at your shoes. It was hard for you to face me, right?" He paused. "Grown-ups can feel that way also. Someday when you're a father yourself you may find it hard to face your kid when you know you could've done better. In Aldus' case, I can't even imagine having to face my son like that. You know what I mean? You knew I could see you, but you still wanted to hide your face. Sometimes it's easier to stay in the shadows, no matter how much you want to be with a loved one."

James wondered if his words were going over the boy's head; Fox had started turning the little Arwing around and around with his fingers again but his eyes retained that tentative sharpness between sleepy and alert. Finally, the father asked, "So whaddya say…any of this going to help with that test tomorrow? Does this make those crusty old guys stand out more?"

Fox nodded and breathed a long sigh through his nose. "Why couldn't Aldus just say he was sorry so the family could be together again and there could be two kings?"

The elder fox smiled as he stood and lifted the Arwing from the smaller hands with little resistance. He placed it on the bedside table and leaned over to kiss his son between the ears. "You're a good kid, little man. But don't be too eager to learn about politics. Once you do, you can't forget it."

Fox gave him a quizzical look but he just chuckled to himself and pulled the blanket up over the arms until the boy took it himself and snuggled in it. Careful not to let his shirt snag on any wayward model edges on his way to the door, James looked back to see a little arm snake from the mound of blankets and run its fingers over the Arwing. He stopped at the door, his finger hovering over the light switch, giving the young fox a few more moments to gaze at it.

"Hey, dad?"

"Yeah?"

"If I'm a pilot someday, will you fly with me?"

James grinned and flicked the light off, the Arwing and its adoring hand still visible from the moon and street lights beyond the window. "I'd like nothing more."

-

* * *

-

Starfox stood side by side before the mouth of the open hangar, the energy shield powered down, salty sea air whipping furiously around them and billowing their jackets. The wind brought with it smatterings of rain from dark, ominous storm clouds that shadowed the area in untimely dusk. Flashes of light stirred in the clouds followed a few seconds later by rumbling, the gaps in time ever decreasing as the storm drew near. Fox didn't want to rush the burial but he didn't relish being caught in an Aquasian tempest either.

Talon Run lay spread before them a few hundred feet below where the INH hovered, brown, jagged rock croppings and spires jutting out from the roiling sea like claws and teeth from the depths, some barely scraping the surface while others climbed high enough to keep Robin wary at the controls. Desperate moss and sparse foliage clung to the rock, some hanging down like green tear streams from the larger formations and low arches. The swathe of natural obstacles, nearly six miles in diameter, was nothing but an ugly landmark to be jotted down and forgotten by the early Aquasian explorers Fox had read about. But to mercenaries and daredevils, it was a treasure trove of training, showing off, and competition. Starfox had trained there for years, the deadly environment adding more urgency to honing piloting skills.

James McCloud had loved it, always talked about it with his family. He took Fox there a few times in the dinky trainee runabouts to teach basic maneuvers but the younger man always looked forward to the day he could swoop around the rocks with his father in his own Arwing. James swore he'd take his son there when he was ready…

But by time Fox was ready, James was already gone.

"Me and dad had some good times here," Fox said aloud over the growing roar of the storm, echoing his thoughts. "Some days I think he was even more eager than me to get me in an Arwing so we could do some real piloting rather than student basics. I couldn't wait, used to daydream about coming out here with him in a shiny new Arwing. Part of it was just to be with him, and part of it was to show him what I could do…make him proud. I never got the chance to do either." He swallowed and hid a scowl as he continued. "But he made his choice and it cost him…it cost me. Some moments I hate him for what he did, others I miss him. I don't know how to feel about him anymore. All I know is this wreck of an Arwing symbolizes the last good thing he did, the last thing that represents what Starfox always stood for. It's fitting we bury it along with dad's memory here, where our last good memories together were made."

The rain had picked up and began pooling atop the smooth hangar floor at their feet, carried in by the gusts of wind. Lightning and thunder overlapped and the sea tossed and turned in rage far beneath.

"Does anyone want to say anything else?"

A few quiet moments passed; Falco and Peppy glanced at each other and at Talon Run and each shook their heads. The hare commented, "I already told him everything I wanted to."

The team moved off to the side, out of the way of the launch rail where the wrecked Arwing had been secured. Once they were all clear, Fox raised a finger and wheeled it around, a signal to Robin up in the control bay to begin the launch procedure. A series of mechanical whooshes and whines joined the cacophony of the storm as the Arwing husk settled into position beneath a flashing red warning light. Once the sounds subsided, the synthetic female voice filled the hangar over the loudspeaker, reciting a snippet of the traditional naval sea and space burial:

"As we commit the remains of James McCloud to the deep, grant him peace and tranquility until that day when he and all will be raised to the glory of new life. Launch initiated; stand clear."

With a near-deafening rush of wind and force, the Arwing shot forth in a blur of rusted metal, the wake nearly knocking the three onlookers over from fifty feet away. They stepped forward to watch the Arwing's final flight, or at least as much flight as it could get in its shape. The husk glided for a ways through the rain, and quickly began its descent, corkscrewing on its half-wing. Fox watched it the whole way, finally losing track of it against the dark sea until it broke through the water with a massive white splash. He kept watching until the last traces of foam and disruption melded with the rest of the rough water. He didn't know what he expected to feel – finality? Closure? A peace of his own? – but his conflict over his father continued inside as sure as the storm around him. Peppy seemed to sense it and placed a hand on Fox's shoulder.

"Give it time," the hare said. "Doesn't matter that he already had a ceremony years ago. This one was for real. I know it felt that way for me."

Fox nodded and turned away for the long walk across the wet, chilled hangar with his team. Cold fingers ran up his spine and he shivered, pulling the unzipped front of his jacket closed, but it did nothing to help. Wind whipped at his back, and the moisture it carried hung on his head fur. Another crash of thunder vibrated through his bones and seemed to incite the storm to further fury.

And it left in its dissipation another sound…a higher, unceasing sound, like an intense thought unable to be ignored…

Fox froze, the chill in his spine spreading to tingle through his entire body. He knew what to expect even before Robin's voice rose above the din.

"Notification, sirs. Unidentified scanner spike detected within insert name here's threat radius. Possible storm interference. Attempting contact and information compilation. Your orders, Captain McCloud?"

Fox didn't answer; he barely heard her to begin with. Turning on his heel, he strained to see out into the intensifying storm, the sound still creeping in his head. Thunder, rain, and wind distorted the sound, masked it, cut it in and out and made it play tricks on him to the point where he questioned if it even existed. But it wasn't just any sound; it had been a part of his life for so long that it could never hide behind the shroud of even the loudest storm.

An Arwing engine.

Something wasn't right in the rain beyond the hangar mouth. The barrage of droplets pounded a mass of nothingness and spread over its invisible surface to stream on toward Aquas. As if sensing its own discovery, the object's hull emanated a fleeting white light that quickly passed from aft to fore, revealing to the naked eye its true form: an Arwing every bit a match to Starfox's own, but black in color. Fox squinted but even without the cover of rain he wouldn't have been able to see into the tinted canopy. Just like when it left him on Venom among the ruins of Dianus' Colossus, it stared back silently.

Time stood still for a few minutes, Fox and the fighter locked together. The Arwing made the first move, backing up into a tight turn and boosting back toward Talon Run, its camouflage remaining off. The storm swallowed any sight of the craft but he could still make out flickers of the engine flare in the distance amongst the rocks.

"Anyone else think we shouldn't be standing here with the energy field down?" Falco offered.

"Go to the bridge," Fox said, stepping off into a quick walk toward his own freshly-repaired Arwing. "Both of you. I'm going out there."

Peppy shot a nervous glance at Talon Run, then back at Falco, who shrugged. "Fox, we don't know what that thing is. For all we know, it's one of those crazy Sirens in a Venomian prototype. Who knows what it's capable of?"

"If it wanted to kill me it's had every chance. I'm tired of this damn thing shadowing me; I'm finding out what it wants once and for all. Stay with Robin, keep an eye on it, and talk me through any updates."

Falco stepped forward, scowling, as his captain hurried through pre-flight visual checks. "What am I gonna do up there, count the ceiling panels? Let me go with you in case things heat up."

Fox paused after ducking under the wing and looked back at his teammates. "If you go with me, it might run. It's not here for you. It wants me. It's been watching my ass for as long as we've been fighting Dianus but it's still here. It wants something else."

The avian cocked an eyebrow and huffed in frustration but Peppy didn't bother trying to argue. Instead, he met Fox's eyes and narrowed his own, a look of understanding relaxing his haggard features.

"You think it's him, don't you?"

Fox turned back to his fighter and continued inspection of the port wing capacitor, mostly just to break from his mentor's stare. "Maybe."

"You thought he might show up here, didn't you?"

"Maybe. Like I said, I want to know who or what's been shadowing me."

"What'll you do if it really is him?"

Fox's hands froze in mid-lock over the capacitor's quick-access panel. The yellow and black warning stripes coating the inside of the panel cover blurred in his eyes for a few moments as the hypothetical scene played again in his head as it had so many times in the previous weeks…and again stopped with no conclusion. Finally, he slammed the panel shut, seal-locked it, and continued around the Arwing without a word in response.

-

* * *

-

Beltino savored the spreading coolness down his throat upon his first sip of pinot grigio, a change of pace from the heavy oloroso sherry he had finished off earlier in the day. Whenever sherry ran dry and his aides scrambled to find the proper stock to fit his tastes, this light white wine did in a pinch. It helped remind him there were other things worth appreciating in life.

He had been sitting in his office onboard his personal transport, restless for the following day when he'd finally be back at TDE Station Alpha. Perhaps he'd be able to ruffle through the backlog of work that had built up in his wartime absence before Starfox returned for his son's ceremony, depending on how long they lingered at Aquas. Regardless, he'd at least be able to sit in his spacious chamber with the vast panorama of space rather than the sad excuse for a window in his transport chamber…and the mental image of Captain Birse in the chair where he had sat only a few days before, agreeing to kill Hellion.

Something about the outcome of the McMarthen incident didn't sit well with the old toad. When the Katinian reconnaissance patrol called to tell him his employees were safe, his first thoughts – aside from the staggering workers' compensation checks he'd now have to write – were grim in the despair that Birse had failed to kill Hellion as well. For how else could he have done the deed if the hostages still lived? But the news that even Laren survived along with the hostages, and Ares had been arrested with his sister dead…how was it possible?

There had been a rare respect in agent Laren's voice when he spoke of Dagger after their meeting on Macbeth. Perhaps, Beltino forced himself to grudgingly admit to his half-empty wine glass, the respect was well-founded.

Just a pity that the only casualty of the McMarthen incident seemed to be Birse himself. Even Beltino's impressive connections couldn't coax details of the recovery operation, but all he could be certain of was that Birse did not leave Fortuna with his team…alive or dead.

Nor did the remains of the poor Paladin armor. Ah, well, hardware could be replaced; the gathered combat data would prove more valuable in the long run.

However, Beltino's solitude in his quiet office did not only serve his mulling over the finer points of his hasty, possible ill-advised plan that Birse so confidently ignored for his own…Hellion had remained as simply one loose end amongst others from the near-catastrophic war. With the Vanguard safe, Dianus dead, and the galaxy's most wanted terrorists out of action, Lylat was free to begin shoving the conflict into history. The LDC could pat itself on the back and take their well-politicized credit, documentaries could be produced, video game developers could mine the battles for content, TDE could turn a tidy profit replacing lost craft, and the first generation of post-Lylat War military recruits could inherit the legacy of heroes. People could relax as much as the evening news allows them to, the media could begin pointing fingers at who was to blame for the conflict, and political candidates the galaxy over could paint their adversaries as the cause. Life would return to a sense of familiar, if doleful, normality.

Except for those who still had battles to fight. Loose ends to tend to.

Beltino waited for hours, rationing his wine carefully so as not to become too inebriated. When the urgent knock rattled his chamber door, he allowed himself a moment of relief that at least he need not wait anymore…no matter the outcome.

"Come in."

The door slid open and his top aide, a young auburn feline business university prodigy named Benjamin Spalding, stepped in, looking no more relaxed than he'd been while out of his element aboard the Vanguard. He wore a business HUD over his left eye that constantly fed him TDE updates and situation trackers and a PDA was clenched in his hand. He strode up the desk, speaking as soon as he broke the door threshold. "Sir, Em-Con just picked up an activation alert from rogue tech. It's the Eclipse again."

Beltino nodded, unsurprised. "Wine, Benny?"

Spalding blinked, his mouth hanging. "Uh…no, no thank you, sir. About the Eclipse—"

"Has my shipment of sherry arrived at TDE-Alpha?"

"Um…yes, sir. It should be waiting for you. This signal, it—"

"Benny, relax. You won't live to be my age if you take things so seriously. The Eclipse's prototypical tech played havoc with our tracking systems; we knew there would be echoes in the system for a few months while it was purged from the database."

The feline held the PDA up to his wide eyes and shook his head. "These can't just be echoes, sir. It's been weeks since the project was scrapped and the signal hasn't lost strength, not here, and not in the other times it's showed up." He sighed through his nose, his lips pursed, and attempted a frustrated yet respectful tone. "I could help diagnose the problem better if I knew what the Eclipse project was. I understand classification and anonymous ghost-staffing but—"

Beltino raised his palms to stop him. "I appreciate your vigor, I really do, but it's not your job to understand projects and diagnose technical problems. Rest assured, I know the tech at play in Eclipse and I'm not concerned over these signal recurrences."

Spalding frowned in resignation and hesitantly lowered his PDA. "What do you want me to tell Em-Com?"

The old toad diddled with the stem of his wine glass between his thumb and forefinger, thinking it over for a few seconds. Finally, he scooted the glass off to the side and tapped a button beneath his desk. A square section of the wooden desktop opened up to reveal a holoscreen projector and keyboard, the projector immediately materializing a screen with the TDE emblem rotating and waiting for input. "Connect me with the Eclipse signal monitoring program."

The aide obeyed, fingers scurrying across the PDA screen with practiced precision until Beltino's console flashed into a loading screen, ending in a display of Eclipse statistics, most encrypted. In the lower right corner, a red light pulsed in the background of a block of information giving the last date and time of the prototype's activation…only ten minutes before. TDE's Emergency Communications department had been quick in trickling the warning down through the channels.

"I'll keep track of this personally," Beltino said. "Tell Em-Com to stand by; I suspect the signal should dissipate quickly, as echoes from this sort of tech usually do." He grinned and topped off his glass. "I'm still technically off the clock, so to speak, but I'll keep an eye on this to give you and Em-Com freedom to see to more important issues."

"Very well, sir. I'll be in communications if you need me."

Once the frayed aide left and the door slid shut to silence, Beltino's amiable smile drooped and his expression grew stern. He looked at the pulsing red block of the screen, helpless in the waiting game he was forced to play with that single color as his only window into what could be happening. He sat back in his chair, folded his hands on his lap, and watched the screen…

…the "echo."

-

* * *

-

Something gnawed on Fox's gut. Fear? Anticipation? Years of pent-up emotions cramming through the floodgates all at once? He could only remember two times a similar feeling wracked him: flying through the bowels of Venom moments before confronting Andross, and careening through the storm clouds before Dianus' final stand. Could that have been the surest sign that he still regarded his father as an enemy to some degree?

He didn't know and he didn't waste any more focus on it. For the first time since finding his father's wrecked Arwing, he felt an answer within his grasp.

Rain pounded his own Arwing as he flew at an easy pace from the INH, the water slicked away both from speed and from the canopy material's special composite designed to break down and evaporate liquid. His targeting screen gave a tentative pulse, reading the phantom Arwing with as much clarity as it ever had…which was never much. The signal's designation and heading numbers flickered, life signs changed on a whim, and seconds at a time went by while it lost and reacquired the target. The storm only added to the uneasy flight, veiling the area in a sickly, soaked gray; not dark enough to mask the angry ocean and hazardous rocks completely, but enough to make Fox pay attention to his surroundings a little more.

As he approached a rock cropping, only a couple hundred feet above the water, a lightning strike shattered the darkness and revealed the phantom Arwing heading straight at him. With a gasp, Fox jerked up on the stick to halt in a hover and instinctively tightened his finger over the main gun trigger. But his cool head returned in time to stay his hand and he waited, squinting into the torrential rain, putting no more faith in his instruments.

The fighter materialized before him, but not from the curious stealth it had employed earlier. Instead it simply hovered forward out of the shroud of rain and gloom until the two fighters' tapered noses nearly touched. Fox could make out the Arwing's details and even feel a slightly intensified rumble from twin engines hovering so close by. He didn't expect to be able to see inside the cockpit and he couldn't, yet just being so close to the phantom and feeling another pair of eyes on him was enough. There was nothing invasive about the phantom's approach, nothing threatening, just oddly hesitant, like a nervous parent preparing to hold his baby for the first time.

Fox knew. He didn't know how he could be so certain, but he knew.

"That's you in there, isn't it?" he asked with his comm line set to a broad channel. "You never died after that crash on Venom."

The phantom's midnight canopy only gaped back silently, expected yet irritating.

"Why the hell do you come to me then stay quiet?"

Nothing. Fox's brow furrowed and a knot of anger formed in his throat.

"Answer me, you lying sack of shit! What the hell do you want from me?! What, you want to see me again? Play daddy, give me a hand in battles here and there, try to make up for what you did? Is that it?"

Fox's blood rose to a boil.

"You know what my answer is? Go to hell. You were never around when I was a kid and the only thing that made it bearable was knowing you were dong something good. Something I could be proud to take up myself someday. But you weren't; you and mom sold your souls to Andross."

Lightning arced across the sky, illuminating the seething tempest around them for a split second.

"Maybe you turned your back on Andross before you went down the same path as mom, but you can't reverse what you did to me. You never even had the guts to give me the truth face to face. Was it really that hard? Was all this really easier than coming back to me?"

At another empty response, Fox pounded the console with his fist and snapped, "Say something, you son of a bitch!"

The phantom finally replied: blue twin lasers cut through the gloom and passed just over Fox's head, followed by a quick yaw to the left and right from the fighter. Fox flinched and almost went for his guns again but he recognized the gesture, an informal sparring challenge during free-for-all flight training after-hours at the Academy. Except that the guns used then fired holographic training lasers and the craft took only simulated damage.

As Fox cocked a brow in confusion, the phantom dropped its nose and shot toward the rocky water with only a flash of thrusters and vaporized rain in its wake. Odd sparring maneuver aside, that was enough to kick him into action; no way in hell would he let the phantom get away again without giving up some answers. Firing up his own thrusters, he dove after the fellow Arwing.

_"Fox!" _Peppy's voice rose in his ear. _"That thing is heading right into Talon Run, stand down!"_

"Negative."

_"This blasted place is trouble enough with sunlight; right now it's suicide."_

"If he wants a little spar, he's getting one. I'm not letting him get away again."

_"Fox—"_

"Either help me or keep the line clear."

Fox skimmed the rough water and narrowly missed an earthen overhang before his mentor's voice responded, _"Fine. Just be careful. We'll do our best to track him in case you—"_

"I won't lose him."

A crack of lightning showed Fox what his radar navigation couldn't; the deadly forest of rock and spires now all around him, death at every angle for the pilot whose nerves and skills weren't up to the task. Though the gloom that followed the fleeting light masked most of Talon Run again, Fox could still see it in his mind, still knew that he could careen into a rock with the wrong-timed blink of an eye. Despite his confident words to Peppy, his chest tightened a bit and he swallowed a wave of panic, cold sweat beading on his forehead. The white heat of the phantom's thruster still burned ahead of him, but could either of them truly navigate Talon Run like this?

Was he even as good a pilot as his father to begin with?

-

_If your hand hurts, you're too tight. Tight hand, tight movements, jerky control…keep your grip loose but firm and you won't ride this thing like a bucking horse._

_-  
_

The long-forgotten words came to Fox as he realized his fingers had nearly stiffened around his flight stick. He coaxed them into an easier but firm grip and his Arwing seemed to relax along with him. Through the orange glow in his cockpit from his console in the darkness he could see a bright Talon Run in his memories, putting about at a safe distance around the rocks in his training craft with his father's Arwing watching over him like a high-tech and heavily armed guardian angel. Somehow James always seemed to know just from watching his son fly exactly what Fox was feeling or doing and how to fix it. How nervous Fox had been his first time in Talon Run even with all the safety precautions…mostly nervous about looking good in front of his father and the rest of Starfox. But his father's voice was in his oversized headset every step of the way; calm, encouraging, proud.

"Shit!" Fox barked at the high screech of his wing clipping a rock, sparks exploding behind him. He recovered quickly and tested a side-to-side oscillation to make sure no debilitating damage had been done. Just some paint scratched. Wiping his eyes clear of sweat, he lowered throttle for a moment and gave himself time to close his eyes, knowing it was the last time he'd be able to blink for a long while.

-

_Don't forget to breathe. Pilots who do that black out and never wake up. Focus on your breathing and don't overthink, just guide the ship rather than try to control it. Trust your instincts. Yes, I know I say it a lot and I know you're giving me that look right now, but you'll never hear a more deceptively complex three words in your life._

_-  
_

Fox opened his eyes, his hands steady and his heart keeping a calm pace with his breathing. The cusp of "combat zen" felt tantalizingly close. Embracing his fear and consciously moving past it, he throttled up and shot after the distant thruster flare, almost no more than a flicker beyond the rain.

Ignoring the console's environment imaging, he let his eyes and reflexes take the helm, coolly weaving around the spires and massive crags, an angry ocean crashing against the rocks and licking the bottom of his Arwing as he shot past. Moving at almost double the velocity with which he had ever navigated Talon Run, Fox tried to anticipate the obstacles in the rain-soaked darkness and used every split-second flash of lightning to remember his bearing. Every near-miss and sharp turn whittled away at his meditative state but the zen held fast, forged stronger than even his concentration at Area Six during the war. Tasting vengeance against Andross had fueled him then.

Catching up to that elusive phantom thruster flare fueled him even stronger now.

His own blaring thrusters, the rage of the storm, and the thudding of his heart all melded together in one steady rhythm of flight that poured through his body and made him one with the Arwing. Before long he could make out the shape of the phantom, not just its trail, weaving about the deadly rocks.

And, with a quick dive down and under an outcropping, it vanished.

-

_If you lose your prey, you're not the hunter anymore. It's anyone's game. Don't be overconfident but don't get worried either. Just reset your mind and trust your…you know._

_-  
_

Fox jammed his stick to starboard even before the sudden arc of lightning lit up the phantom screaming right at him. A burst of blue lasers cut through the air he had occupied a moment before and pounded a spire behind him, ripping away enough of a chunk to cause the tall rock formation to teeter and threaten to tip over, the rough wind certainly no help. The phantom pulled into a tight U-turn and got off another shot that struck Fox's Arwing before he could dive into an evasive pattern of his own. Cursing at the sudden drop in shields from the powerful guns – cannons compared to the Venomian cans he was used to dealing with – he gritted his teeth and dragged the pursuing enemy around another clump of rocks…and right back at the collapsing spire.

The spire toppled with the slow pace of a dead giant, a fearsome sight in the fleeting lightning, loose rocks the size of boulders separating and churning the sea. Fox pushed his boost to full, preparing himself for a risky maneuver. Skimming the water, he shot under the nearly horizontal spire before it crashed into the ocean, foam and water billowing around it, and immediately hit the brakes, praying no projectile rocks or debris were coming his way. He pulled up, knowing the phantom couldn't have followed him under and would've had to go over, and saw his opponent shoot past, not anticipating the sudden brake. A devilish grin spreading across his muzzle, Fox resumed the chase and loosed a long string of lasers at the reacquired phantom

Ghost or not, it sparked and reeled from laser impact all the same.

"How d'ya like that?"

The black Arwing responded with action; he dove for the water in a fast corkscrew and pulled up and under a rock arch at the last moment, water from his ocean-impacted chassis spraying across Fox's canopy as he followed right behind. As the two Arwings continued their deadly dance through Talon Run, Fox attempted lock-ons but his quarry always managed to slip out the target zone, even without the aid of stealth. Manual shots yielded no better results. Never in Fox's life had he pursued a more skilled opponent; just keeping up with the brazen and deft flying pushed his own skill to levels he had never trod before…levels he didn't know if he could maintain.

But the pressure grew when a daring barrel roll that nearly planted the phantom into a high rock crag secured it as the pursuer.

Fox's shields plummeted from another few hits and jolted with a spark as a shot made it through and impacted his hull. Keeping a cool head, he kept the stick in motion, evading side to side and weaving around Talon Run's earthen claws. Sweat threatened to bead into his eyes but pulling even a finger from the stick to wick it away would be suicide. Lasers passing far too close for comfort constantly hammered home how sticky his pursuer was, his concentration became split between fending off the attack and trying to navigate the dark rocks. His throat tightened and he reminded himself to breathe.

-

_And…five minutes. Throttle down. Now, you weren't able to shake me and I didn't expect you to. But that wasn't the point of this exercise; the point was to give you a little controlled taste of every pilot's worst fear: being targeted by an enemy who far outclasses him. It can get claustrophobic, make you feel helpless and panicked, make you do stupid things to get away. Above all, keep your head, and if you have to do something drastic to break the chase, make sure you have the skill to back it up or you'll just save the guy the trouble of shooting you down. Hey, chin up, kid. Maybe someday you'll be able to get one past on your old man._

_-  
_

Fox's jaw set and his eyes narrowed. With a breath through clenched teeth that cleared his airway, he growled, "Let's see if you can keep up now."

With three quick taps on the console, all the Arwing's power was rerouted to the boosters. Fox pushed them to full and his engines howled, rain and rock blurring around him, his reflexes barely able to keep the Arwing from smacking into the spires. A crack of lightning showed him his destination: the king that cast its shadow over the other obstacles around it…the Tower, a massive spire that rose from the ocean in the middle of Talon Run, its peak easily hidden by the low storm clouds. As tall and thick as the impressive skyscraper in Corneria City, ridges the size of houses jutted from the spire's rough surface, making it a hazard for any pilot flying too close or darting around it.

It was the one area of Talon Run James had always forbid Fox from nearing.

_"Fox," _Peppy's alarmed voice rose above the engines._ "Break right and try to lose him in the low northern arches. Stay away from the Tower."_

"I can't do this much longer…ending it now. The old twister run."

_"But you've never made it all the way to the top! No one has!"_

"I don't need to make it all the way to the top. I just need to make it further than him."

The phantom kept pace with its target's dizzying speed, following him once more to skim their bellies on the ocean. The Tower soon consumed Fox's entire view, its jagged surface as merciless as he remembered, nature in its rawest form. He swooped to the right as if attempting to fly around the Tower and set up for the twister run, another exercise that seemed simple but had proven to be dangerous and even deadly many times. All a pilot had to do was keep his wingspan vertical, his canopy top as close to the Tower as possible, and fly an ascending spiral around the Tower until he reached its peak. Even at moderate speeds, no pilot had ever reached the top, not even James. Fox himself had only ever achieved just above center before clipping his wing and pulling out.

A full five hundred feet below his father's record.

Bracing himself against the anticipated force Fox jerked his stick to the left, flipping his Arwing on its side, and pulled up on the stick with as much control as he could in the punishing wind and gravity. His Arwing began its run, the Tower's surface whizzing above his head no more than ten feet away. The spire's natural obstacles, as numerous and deadly as Talon Run's own, immediately bombarded him, forcing him to evade and weave at the awkward angle. Many were familiar but he had never attempted the run in such conditions and at such speed. His mind threatened to second-guess his course of action but Fox kept his zen stable, letting the power all around him vibrate with his body.

Before long, Fox lost track of how many times he'd encircled the spire on his rising corkscrew, his attention instead placed on just staying alive. His scanner showed the phantom still pursuing. For some reason, it had also stopped firing, probably because it needed just as much focus to survive the twister run…or maybe because shooting wouldn't be a fair part of the test.

Fox's muscles ached from the tension and he fought to hold his course, unexpected strikes of lightning rattling him more than they used to. His nerves were getting frayed, his constant brushes with death taking their toll. But as long as the phantom stayed with him, he wouldn't budge. More ridges and outcroppings shot by in the blink of an eye.

And parts were getting very familiar…

Fox realized with a curt swallow that his limit was fast approaching, the claw-like rock formation that marked his personal best and nearly took his life years before. When his wing had clipped it, his Arwing spun a hair away from colliding with another boulder before he regained control. After that he avoided trying to break his record.

Consciously keeping his hand from tightening, Fox kept the boosters at full and flew on.

_"Fox…" _Falco's voice, its unsettled tone saying everything it needed to.

"I know."

Lightning split the sky, showing the rocky claws for a split second as they seemed to reach out for the Arwing. His breath catching his throat, Fox let his hand guide the stick. He felt sudden camaraderie with his battleworn and rebuilt Arwing, felt its seething power as it rushed for the obstacle, seeming to crave revenge for injuring it years ago, crave not to get away from the phantom but to prove itself. They were all feelings Fox could understand. Time seemed to slow as the rocks closed in around him, trying to trap him…

But the Arwing burst through the other side of the formation, leaving only the quake of boosters this time rather than a chunk of itself.

"Ha!" Fox let out a whoop of victory that quickly turned serious again when a burst of light struck close behind...but not lightning…

_"The phantom disengaged!" _Peppy reported_. "It took a major hit on that rock; stealth system's failed, shield regeneration failed, looks like its power systems are rebooting."_

That was all Fox needed to hear. He pulled away from the Tower, thankful for being able to fly upright again, and cut into a stomach-rolling U-turn. The phantom Arwing coasted in his sights, a deep shear in its port hull, a sitting duck for only a few seconds while it recovered from the impact. This was the opportunity Fox's ravaged nerves and exhausted body and mind had held out for.

His finger tightened around the trigger.

A few shots and it would be over…all the lies, all the betrayal, all the ghosts that lingered from the Lylat War.

A few shots and the deadly spar that James had initiated would end with the death he apparently never found on Venom.

Fox hesitated. Was that what he wanted all along? Did he push his son to the limits hoping to achieve a real death? The fleeting appearances around the Vanguard, the help in defeating Dianus and her forces…was it all leading to this?

For so long Fox had only seen his father as the faceless void behind the tinted canopy, the specter always looming against the black of space, watching him with no discernable intentions. The internal conflict that bore this funeral to begin with again rose inside him as his finger pulled the trigger further, but rather than anger and bitter resentment he tried to look past the dark canopy before him. The distant voices of his memory that had guided him through Talon Run took on a real face, that loving, honorable face that raised him from a boy. A face he had had so much trouble conjuring since learning of James' betrayal.

The face of a flawed man who had gone so far in his search for redemption that he now left his fate in the hands of his wronged son.

-

-

"Dad?"

James had nearly closed the door all the way behind him when Fox's voice rose once more from the dark room. He cracked it open and said, "Yeah?"

Fox gently pulled his fingers from the metal Arwing and looked toward the door, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "The textbook says Henry killed Aldus. Is that true or just another story?"

James chuckled. "Well, if they ask that on the test it'd be a good idea to go by the textbook. Why?"

The boy rolled onto his other side and nestled himself deeper in the blanket. "Nothing. I guess I just wish it ended different."

"I think a lot of people do. That's why so many variations of the story were made."

"Maybe I'll write my own someday."

The older fox grinned. "I'd like to see it when you do." He watched the two glinting spots in the darkness flicker and close, and he remained in the doorway until slow, rhythmic breathing followed soon after. "Goodnight, little man."

The door closed with a gentle click.

-

-

Fox pulled the trigger.

But not before wrenching the stick back with a desperate gasp, the burst of lasers soaring high and smacking against a distant spire. His Arwing shot past the phantom with a twist of the wings and he eased the throttle down, the pace of the wild chase ceasing like the sudden jolt at the end of a rollercoaster.

Panting from the endless minutes of controlled breathing and flying on the edge, Fox punched the Arwing into hover and sat back in his seat, eyes closed, letting his burning lungs recuperate. The rain fell straight on his canopy in fat drops, no longer whisked about by dangerous winds. He hadn't noticed during his furious climb of the Tower but the storm had begun to ease. Far from over, but showing signs of relenting.

_"He's coming for you," _Peppy said in his ear.

"I thought he might." Fox opened his eyes in time to see the phantom slowly rise to his height on its hover repulsors, seeming to teeter like a wounded eagle. It turned until its nose once more nearly touched Fox's own, its tinted canopy again staring him down. "Give me a second alone, okay?"

_"You sure?"_

"More than I've been in a long time."

Fox pulled his headset from his ears and dropped it down between his knees. With a breath to prepare for the sudden change around him, he touched his console and the canopy rose, allowing in an assault of frigid wind and even colder rain, chilling his hot fur immediately. The intensity of Talon Run rose to his ears from far below where miles of tempest-tossed water still beat against the spire rocks. With careful deliberation, Fox stood in the cockpit and took hold of the canopy frame above his head for support. He stepped up onto the console and then onto the Arwing nose hull itself, making sure his boots gripped well enough on the wet metal. Finally, feeling far less fear than when he had been tempting fate around the Tower, he released the frame and took two balanced steps further out onto the nose. He crouched to plant his hands on the metal and slid into a sitting position with his feet dangling over the port side, nothing but a breathtaking panoramic view of Talon run before him…and below him.

As the minutes stretched on, Fox almost expected the phantom to rise and fly away as it had always done. But part of him, enough to get him out onto the hull, knew it wouldn't.

A mechanical click pierced the natural orchestra. Fox didn't look over; he lowered his eyes and stared past his boots to the sea and rocks. He could barely make out the sound of hard flight boots on the phantom hull, taking the same tentative yet determined steps. A careful hop from nose to nose brought the phantom's pilot to Fox's own Arwing with a light bob in the hover repulsors.

Fox had been sitting long enough for rain to soak him through but he didn't care; he kept his head bowed, droplets streaming behind his ears and down his cheeks to drop from the tip of his nose, down between his feet the entire dizzying distance to the water's surface. The phantom pilot halted a couple feet to his right and hesitantly eased down into the same sitting position. All Fox could see was the green jumpsuit-clad legs, wetness spreading through the material, and black flight boots dangling beside his own silver. The last time he and his father sat on an Arwing nose together his own legs had been shorter, lankier. James had been an imposing figure beside him, an adult not just in age alone. So many days they rested atop the Arwings, sitting and talking – though at a safe distance from the ground – whether it be dawn before a flight, noon to eat a packed lunch, or dusk to go over what had been taught and learned during the day and what lay in the future.

Fox's legs now seemed the same size as the man beside him. Unsurprising, yet jarring.

Minutes passed in silence, the stormy oceanic vista seeming to play out all around just for them.

"I'm who I am because of you," Fox said. It had been the same seven words he said in farewell to his father's empty casket when he was buried the first time. For too long he wished he could say it to James himself. He added, "Was it all an act?"

The voice that had been silenced for so many years responded. "Never."

The way it was said erased any doubt from Fox's mind. "I think I know why you never came back…why you hid from me. But you didn't have to do that. Without you to talk to, all I had to go on was guesses and fears."

"I know you could never forgive me for abandoning you and doing what I did. All I wanted to do was end it, help wipe out everything from the lies behind the Lylat War."

Fox glanced past James' legs at the long shear in the phantom's hull. "Including yourself?"

A moment of silence.

"Whatever could give us both closure."

Fox shifted his eyes to his father's lap and slowly continued upward until he could see his face. Time had dulled some of the red fur's vibrancy and the eyes were burdened under years of strain and regret, but it all remained unmistakable...except for the absent sunglasses that always twitched atop his muzzle when he spoke. Even with the confidence Fox remembered from his childhood worn away, the older fox still exuded a sense of power; not from his name or aviation reputation, but rather the personality that earned him those accolades.

"You always made me fix my mistakes. You always said redemption is greater than innocence because you have to make the choice to sacrifice for it. I think you've sacrificed enough."

When no response came, Fox added, "I'm saying I forgive you."

With visual effort, James turned his own head and met his son's eyes. Through the gloom and rain Fox could read a flicker of emotion that broke through the controlled demeanor before the eyes turned back to the horizon.

"I…didn't come here expecting that. I didn't ever expect it."

Fox found a grin creeping onto his muzzle in spite of himself. "Well, someone once told me it was okay to write my own ending."

The edges of James' mouth turned up as well, making Fox's own smile widen.

"I don't think Starfox could possibly have a better commander. I was never able to see what kind of aviator you turned out to be, not firsthand anyway, not until today. You're a hell of a pilot, Fox. And an even better man."

"I had a good role model."

James' grin fell a bit and he paused for a few seconds. "You made a good choice, burying my Arwing here. But you know this is where it really does have to end. I can't come with you."

Fox nodded slowly. "I know. I'm just glad I got to say goodbye this time."

"Me too."

With careful balance, James lifted his feet back onto the hull and stood. He lingered as if not wanting to leave just yet and said a minute or so later, "It may be hard, but I hope you can find some kind of peace with your mother also. The way you remember us…it was never an act for her either."

Fox glanced up to him. "I thought so. But it's good to hear."

James turned back toward his own Arwing and took a few steps. Another careful hop brought him back to his own hull.

"Dad?"

The older fox stopped and turned toward his son.

"I always wanted to say thank you for saving me on Venom…for leading me out of that base safely."

"You don't have to thank me," James replied. "You saved me also."

Long after the black Arwing eased away and boosted off into the dark sky, Fox remained sitting, his eyes exploring every inch of Talon Run. He didn't see the storm or darkness but rather the sunlit memories of days spent as a middling pilot navigating the rocks, always nervous but never fearful because he knew his father would always be at his side.

-

* * *

-

The red pulse ceased.

In its place, the scan data ended with the line, "Source Lost."

Beltino let out a long breath and took a sip of his now room temperature pinot grigio. The lost signal could have meant any number of things – the craft malfunctioned, it had been destroyed, interference…or perhaps the confrontation had ended in a way even he couldn't foresee. Regardless, he trusted James McClouds promise that the Eclipse would never bee seen again. It had taken the better half of a decade since Andross' death, but he had gained enough confidence in the old fox to trust him once again.

For so long, Beltino had sheltered McCloud more to keep a distrustful eye on him than to help him. The betrayal hadn't been received lightly, no matter how apparently sincere the desire for redemption. How long the road had been…Beltino had been sitting much as he was now the day James' supposedly lost Arwing tripped its own power sensor near Venom. When the TDE dispatch found him wandering the Venomian wastes – a very discreet, nondisclosure-bound dispatch – Beltino had been torn over what to do with him. Fox's conflicts had mirrored his own…a once trusted friend turned betrayer, yet he prevented Andross and Dianus from acquiring Arwing tech. At what point does a man's redemption truly redeem him?

What made Beltino finally trust him? The toad mused over the question with the rest of his wine.

When Dianus resurfaced, Toad doubted he could've contained James even if he hadn't let him leave with the Eclipse, so passionate was he about protecting Fox and helping undo what he had done.

A sardonic chuckle escaped Beltino's throat. Perhaps it had taken a profound loss of his own to see it. He poured the last remnants of wine from the bottle and prepared a toast. But not before putting the Eclipse to rest.

"Benny," he said, the desk intercom button pressed under his finger. "Inform Em-Com that the ghost signal has been purged. We won't be seeing any more of it."

_"Yes, sir. Glad to hear it."_

Beltino rested his fingers on the console keyboard and typed in his access code to gain entry to the file's parameters. It usually pained him to send a project to the graveyard but this one seemed fitting in its conclusion.

_Project Eclipse: Terminated_

_ To reopen upon further technological compatibility study under Mk. 2 conditions._

With a flick of the desk switch, the screen closed into the wood.

"Well, James," the old toad said aloud, raising his glass in a toast. "To sons. What we want for them, what we do for them, and the lengths we'll go to for their good."

-

**_-Chapter 28 Coming Soon-_**


	35. Epilogue

-

EPILOGUE  
From the Ashes  
_INH, Bridge  
Two days after the funeral at Talon Run_

_-  
_

Fox never liked to sit too long in the bridge commander's chair; he'd slouch a bit, lean on one elbow, develop a ridged brow, and look far too much like the old, grumpy officers who had commanded the simulation bridges in Academy training…the kinds of officers he and his classmates would risk imitating when they were alone for a few laughs. But after a few years commanding the Great Fox, he found himself gravitating toward some alone time on the bridge to be by himself with his thoughts and the vast panorama of stars through the thick glass. With Starfox having begun its first real free downtime in weeks, the INH's comfortable ergonomic chair let him digest all that had happened in the time from the Vanguard's first shots to the storm at Talon Run…and let him admire space once again without the Titan-class ship or a barrage of lasers marring it.

His floating thoughts were eventually interrupted by a small transport vessel departing the hangar beneath the bridge nose and flying away, its tail flares diminishing and finally winking away. A TDE vessel had arrived nearly an hour before to drop off a few things, which Falco and Peppy were taking care of. According to Beltino, the shipment should have contained a few crates' worth of salvage from the Great Fox wreckage which his men had signed on to take care of; intact items the team might want back. But Fox found it difficult to get his hopes up that anything valuable had survived. He had been close enough to the explosion to see what it had done…too close to ever forget it.

The bridge door swished open and closed, the clack of Robin's high heels penetrating the silence. Her perky voice greeted him. "Pardon my intrusion, sir, but I'd like to report that the visitors have left their assigned payload and departed. They send father's warmest regards. I'd also like to run a systems check given our imminent arrival at Cornerian rim territory to ensure our compliance with planetary aerospace laws. Though emotional response parameters are experiencing load anomalies, I believe I should exhibit annoyance in accordance with the typical organic response to law abidance technicalities."

Fox grinned and rubbed his eyes to clear away the haze of thought. "Just do what Falco does: call it 'stupid crap' and get it over with."

"Yes, sir. I'll get to work on stupid crap right away." As Robin sat at one of the bottom-tier consoles, she added, "If I may, sir, Mister Hare told me to refer you to a news program you might be interested in. Shall I tune the chair vidscreen properly?"

"Sure, go ahead. Better not be another pointless LDC summit."

Fox leaned back and adjusted the viewscreen attached to the chair's left arm. It flickered on and showed the familiar female tigress news anchor of CNC wrapping up a story.

_"—to come as LDC investigators probe Artemis Biotechnical further. In related news, a trial date has been set for interplanetary terrorist Ares, real name as of yet unknown, last survivor of his anarchist cell Hellion. Ares was cornered and captured by Fortunian military forces following a firefight that claimed the lives of at least twenty freelancers and Ares' sister, Eris. Military spokesmen claim no Fortunian soldiers were harmed."_

Fox chuckled.

_ "With a staggering number of charges and evidence weighed against him, LDC officials predict a swift and harsh sentencing. Ares could not be reached for questioning. To wrap up CNC's 'Home Front' segment on the recent conflict, let's go to this station's own entertainment reporter Chad Oswell, who has the inside story of Lylat's favorite 'girl of a different color.' Chad?"_

The tigress gave way to a dressing room with the thud of music barely audible in the background. Chad, a bear with fashionable clothing that belied his girth, sat beside a familiar face: Krystal, silver as the INH's hull and beaming just as proudly, clad in all the makeup and crazy clothing of her stage shows.

_"Thank you, Donna! I'm here with sexy singer and daring diva Krystal, who continues to shock the galaxy with her sudden change of shade. I've just been informed that it is in fact _not_ a new dye, but rather her natural color. Krystal, I think you know where my first question's heading. Your harrowing experiences onboard the Vanguard are simply enthralling to hear about, but I thought a person's supposed to turn 'white as a sheet' so the saying goes. How scared were you to go all the way to silver? What brought about this incredible change?"_

Krystal laughed. _"It was scary, that's for sure, but it was also pretty eye-opening. A couple astonishing people there made me believe that I was more beautiful without all that goop on me. I gotta say, I'm glad for my producer's sake that my fans seem to agree, like, a lot."_

_ "I happen to agree. Simply beautiful, just fabulous."_

_ "Thank you."_

_ "You seem to be recovering from your wound very well. Is the military letting you talk about it yet, or do you have to wink the story to me in code?"_

She grinned and chose her words carefully. _"All I can say is that the wound was worth the pain. And I was much more fortunate than a lot of people on the Vanguard."_

_ "Definitely, definitely. You haven't been very vocal about how you've been recommended for the Navy Distinguished Civilian Service Medal. Man, that's a mouthful! More secrecy? Your fans are dying to know how their favorite performer became a war hero."_

_ "Now, now, Chad, even if I was allowed to tell you I don't think it would be a big deal. 'Hero' is a big word to throw around and I, like, definitely don't want it all to be about the medal. Tonight's not about me."_

_ "No, of course not!" _The bear swept his arm with a flourish toward the dressing room wall where the loud music thumped from behind._ "This marvelous event tonight is certainly not a routine show. Why don't you tell us about it in your own words?"_

That seemed to light up Krystal's face from the uncomfortable smiles surrounding the talks about medals and heroes. _"Love to! First of all, huge hugs and thanks to my agents for getting this gig together so fast; I came back itching to get this going and we all worked our buns off for it. This is the first show of my Help From Home Tour, a series of four shows for charity. Every credit of profit goes to the Help From Home Foundation, which supports military families and soldiers with disabilities."_

_ "So fans can help a good cause, see this stunning new look of yours and, if my sources are right, hear a new song you plan to debut that you wrote on your way home from the Vanguard. With this remarkably generous tour and a brand new song, your time beyond Solar seems to have had quite an effect on you."_

_ "Like nothing else, Chad."_

_ "I just have to ask, though I think I know the answer: can you tell me anything about this new song?"_

Krystal hesitated, her mouth open to respond but the words not coming for a few seconds. _"I can tell you it's about a particular guy I met. A special guy. He joked that I should write a song and send him all the profits, but he would like what I'm doing with this money much more. That's kinda why he's special, ya know? Wherever he is, he'll be smiling and shaking his head all at once when he hears this."_

_ "Another delicious detail I'll have to try to squeeze out of you some other time. Thank you so much for seeing me before such a big—"_

The sound cut out and a box of text appeared over Chad's jabbering face, reading, _Incoming call: Pepper, Gen. B. Number encrypted._

"General Pepper returning your earlier call, sir," Robin needlessly reported. "Would you like it on-screen?"

Fox straightened in his chair and swiveled to face the floor-embedded holo-projector. "Put it on holo."

"Right away, sir."

The general's familiar face materialized in the air above the projector, looking tired but no worse for wear for someone who narrowly avoided being blown out of his office by a bomb. Fox greeted him with a smile and said, "You don't look much worse than you did before. Hard to tell the difference these days."

Pepper gave a half-amused grunt. "You better hope you look this good when you're my age and just spent far too long in a hospital. Sorry it took all day to get back to you; snot-nosed techies hauling me all around, had to go through a bunch of clearance and ID protocols before I can get back into my shiny new office with its new security doo-hickeys."

"Everything okay?"

"Shattered leg's having a hard time healing. And my antique furniture was blown to hell. Other than that, I can't complain, all things considered. This conflict could have been much, much worse if not for you and McGarret and everyone else there."

"And Dagger." Fox had replied on reflex and reacted to his own words as if someone else had spoken of them. His smile drooped as did Pepper's eyes. "How're they doing anyway?"

"Coping," the old hound replied simply. "I can't tell you anything about Captain Birse; not just clearance reasons, I don't have all the facts either yet. I expect it'll be part of this lengthy 'welcome back' briefing later today."

Fox hesitated, mostly because he feared one possible answer. "Can you tell me if he's alive?"

"I don't know. If he is, he hasn't reported back. And if he isn't, the LDC doesn't want anyone knowing it."

Fox sighed through his nose and looked past the translucent head to the stars beyond. "You know, with all the bad that came of this war, I saw a lot of good. Was just thinking of that watching this interview with Kristine Sherwood. Seeing her change, seeing Fara do what she did, the way the Vanguard crew held against the Atlas...even a personal matter or two that turned out well. I like to think that whatever happened to Gage, it was for the best also."

Pepper chuckled. "No one joins black ops expecting the good stuff in life."

"Maybe not. But I bet they appreciate it all the more when it comes around."

-

* * *

-

"I spy—"

"Erica…"

"—with my little eye—"

"Erica…"

"—something that begins with B."

"Bed. Can we stop playing now?"

Ley frowned and leaned back, the plastic chair beside Delaine's hospital bed creaking more from its flimsy design than her meager weight. "How do you get these so fast?"

The wolf shifted beneath the sheets and groaned. Even sitting up he had trouble angling his two cast limbs and bandaged body to a bearable position. Of all the intensely uncomfortable places he'd had to lie in wait for hours or days on end as a sniper, somehow the hospital seemed the worst. "Because the room has all of ten items in it and we've been playing for an hour."

"Yeah, well." Ley, wearing jeans and a black jacket over a purple tank top, crossed her legs and folded her arms. Her eyes wandered the sparse hospital room and couldn't dispute the minimalist décor. "Keeps the mind busy."

Delaine glanced sideways at her with narrowed eyes. "You can leave if you're uncomfortable seeing me like this. I understand."

She rolled her eyes. "I think you're the uncomfortable one. No shame in injury, ya know."

"It's not just an injury."

Ley pursed her lips and remained silent. It hadn't been easy visiting her teammate and friend and somehow managing to skirt the issue that his numerous injuries would probably mean the end of his career with Dagger. The doctors expected a nearly full recovery, but nearly full wasn't full enough for Dagger, and with possible lingering issues in his legs and left arm, that would be enough for a career change to the graveyard of 'trainer' duty. Ley still held on to hope and tried not to let the already silent and introverted Delaine worry even more.

"Well, you're stuck with me anyway," she finally replied. "I've seen you in more uncomfortable situations. Remember Titania last year? Thanks to that, I know what color underwear you like."

"That was a zipcord malfunction."

"Still funny to run a whole recon mission with your boxers hanging out the back of your pants. That story goes over great at parties."

Delaine gave her an icy glare in the calm yet threatening way that only he could.

"I think I have a new story now, though," the leopardess continued, smirking back. "That was pretty quick thinking, jumping into the bathtub before the tank fired. Thanks to that all I had to do was scrape you off the road rather than pick little Del bits out of my fur."

The wolf grunted.

"Assuming they ever declassify the mission so I actually _can _tell the story."

"Probably the last thing on CASOC's mind. Two Dagger slots to fill now."

"Oh, stop talking that way. You'll be fine. The grumpy ones always are."

Delaine didn't look convinced. "And the captain?"

Ley had no answer for that. She'd already stormed in and out of every CASOC department to find out what exactly happened to Gage after he went dark on Fortuna but no one had any real answers. Officially, he was AWOL. But the way he spoke to her before he cut his comms left her with a terrible feeling in her gut.

"A little early to count him out," she finally replied in a soft voice. "He wouldn't quit when there's still work to be done and there's always work to be done in Lylat. He'll be back; I have faith."

"You might have too much faith for this job."

"Says the chaplain."

The closest thing Ley had seen all day to a grin teased the sides of the wolf's muzzle. "Former chaplain."

A knock at the door made Ley look down at her watch and then blink in surprise; the last hour had flown by despite her friend's apparent boredom. After calling over her shoulder, "Just a sec!" she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and clasped her hands together. She hadn't been able to come up with exactly how to tell Delaine who was at the door so she figured she'd wing it. "So here's the thing, Del…um…funny you should mention your chaplain stint."

The wolf gave a confused look at the door. "You're giving me the Last Rites?"

"What? No…" Ley huffed and tried again. "Remember on the dropship you told me about that file in your secure CASOC account? The address to send it to if you didn't make it back? You know, when you cursed yourself for that mission?"

Delaine's jaw set. He didn't need to hear anymore. "What did you do, Erica?"

"I took a peek and might've accidentally sent the file to the address."

The wolf frowned. "That's quite an accident since it needed three security checks to be ready for public sending."

"I'm really clumsy." Ley stood with another smirk and walked to the door. "I'll leave you two alone. See you tomorrow, Del."

She opened the door and smiled in greeting at the man in the doorway before passing and disappearing into the hospital corridor. The old wolf stepped inside and closed the door behind him, his dark black suit a stark contrast to the bleach white room, save the equally white collar about his neck. His gray fur had been dulled with time and his ears drooped a bit but he still held himself with dignity, his eyes every bit as hawkish behind the thin glasses as Delaine remembered.

He stood still, an uncomfortable few moments passing before he cleared his throat and said, "Richard."

Delaine, feeling even more undignified in his position, responded with a curt, "Sir."

The reverend stepped to the foot of the bed and uneasily eyed the room as if not sure what to do with himself. "Your mother's worried sick. You should've called."

"Where is she?"

"She…wanted me to come in alone first."

Delaine looked at his father with piercing eyes. "Why now? Why ten years after you hung up on me?"

The older wolf's chest rose and he risked bristling at the tone but instead let out his breath and walked around to the chair Ley had occupied. With a rhetorical gesture to ask permission, he slid the seat out and sat, looking no more comfortable. "Your young friend there sent me a letter. She said you wrote it and asked her to deliver it if you…weren't able to yourself. She said she hadn't planned to go ahead with it, but the password's meaning changed her mind once she figured it out. Clever girl, for a soldier. GAL65; she only need mention and I understood. Galatians 6:5…'For every man shall bear his own burden.'"

Delaine remained silent, his own gaze still on the door across from his bed.

"I suppose I was worried," Reverend Delaine continued. "Worried that my boy was becoming a man and that I hadn't done well enough to prepare him for it. But when I read your letter I realized what kind of man you had become, so noble as to forgive me and send me your love after ten years of…of nothing. Sixty-five years of living and breathing God's words and you reminded me of what they truly meant."

Delaine looked at his father. Every memory of the face from his childhood and teenage years brought back the same stone authority. He couldn't be sure he never saw his father as vulnerable before but it came as a surprise nonetheless.

"I never considered what rigors of the soul you must have gone through to make the decisions you did. I considered your decision to leave the chaplaincy as a fall from faith, but…you saw it as a better way to use your 'gifts,' as you said. I didn't trust you."

"I can tell you still don't approve, sir." Delaine replied.

The reverend looked down at his folded hands. "I may not help the galaxy in the same way you do but your burden is yours to bear and not mine to judge. You must use your gifts as you see fit and never waste them. Trust me on that, Richard; I know of what I speak."

"How?"

Reverend Delaine didn't respond immediately. Head still bowed and eyes affixed on his folded hands, he swallowed a couple times and spoke with forced strength to mask a fragile voice. "Because for ten years I wasted the greatest gift God ever gave me, and this week I almost lost it."

For all the times Delaine had bottled up his tears in front of his father as a child he felt an odd discomfort being on the other end. Though no tears fell and no emotional shudders wracked the broad shoulders, Delaine saw a reflection of himself as a boy struggling to retain strength when he felt at his most vulnerable. With an unsure hand, he did what he always wanted his father to do: he extended his free left hand and clasped the older wolf's hands in a reassuring squeeze. Nothing more.

_It's okay, go ahead. It doesn't matter if he's looking anymore._

_-_

_

* * *

_

_-  
_

"I'll give you that," Pepper conceded. "In any case, they have some downtime to relax and recuperate while CASOC investigates Birse. Sigil's on standby in case any emergencies come up but for once I think we can sleep easy."

"Is everything on Venom secure?" Fox asked, remembering how he left Dianus' complex still occupied. The general seemed to pick up on what he was hinting at.

"Project Siren excavations are going slow thanks to weather and terrain problems. The forward team that first moved into Dianus' HQ reported nothing but dead bodies, most with a single shot in the head from their own pistols. Could be a failsafe that kicked in from being separated from the source for too long, or maybe an automatic response to Dianus' death. No way to know. TDE is working on a way to blanket-scan for nanites so we can find any rogues that may have escaped or integrated into populated areas. For now I just hope they all went the way of the dead ones."

Fox strummed his fingers on the chair arm. "What about Fara? Codename Phoenix from the after-action reports."

The regretful look on the hound's face told him that he had already read about all that Fara had done. "I wouldn't hold my breath for any kind of recognition, let alone a ceremony or funeral."

The mercenary shook his head, annoyed. "That's not right."

"Let it go, Fox. We have a lot of wounds to heal from this war; let's take them one at a time. On that note, I suppose I'll see you at Slippy Toad's ceremony day after next, right?"

"Of course."

Pepper nodded once. "Good. You, me, Hare, and Beltino can catch up on old times. Thomas McGarret too, if the LDC will let him out of their debrief room for ten minutes."

Fox nodded back. "Give me a call the second you hear anything about Gage, okay?"

"I'll do what I can. Take care."

He cut the connection and the holographic head dissipated to reveal Robin patiently sitting, her chair swiveled around so she faced Fox.

"Stupid crap is complete, sir," she reported. "Awaiting final authorization from Lylat Travel Commission for lawful entry into Cornerian space."

Fox sighed and stood, the sigh turning into a groan as he stretched his stiff arms and legs. "They're gonna complain about the temporary transponder ID again, aren't they?"

"That is most likely, sir."

He stepped down the two tiers to the control deck and walked up to the wall-to-wall window, the slight curve in the glass enveloping his peripheral vision in white-speckled space. "Why can't I name this damn ship?"

"You can, sir. In fact, as captain there is no one else who can legally—"

"That's not what I mean. I mean, why is it so hard? I've been putting it off and putting it off, but why?"

Robin blinked her synthetic eyes. "From what I understand of organic, and especially military organic behavior, names tend to carry significant meaning. The Great Fox belonged to your father and was significant of its own time period."

Fox glanced at her. "What're you saying, I'm just not creative enough to come up with a name as significant as the Great Fox?"

"No, sir. I'm saying to give the insert name here a significant name, you needed inspiration from its own time. Its own meaning. Perhaps this conflict needed to end before you could find that significance."

"Then why am I still coming up blank?"

"Organic psychology is very illogical sometimes sir," Robin sighed airlessly. "Though I do notice that when you speak of the ship your biological chemistry is imbalanced in favor of depressive signs. Perhaps, as you told General Pepper, an outlook on the good of the war would give a change of perspective."

Fox chuckled. "Not a bad idea."

"I will log your positive feedback in my TDE user banks, sir."

Fox remained at the window while the leopardess turned back to the console and continued work on something or another. He lost track of time in his thoughts and only barely heard the door open and close some time later, two new sets of feet traversing the bridge. In the reflection of the glass he saw Peppy's silhouette approach from behind and reach out to him, a dull metal object in his hand. Fox half-turned and looked down, expecting a bill from the TDE transports or a cargo report…anything except what he found.

His breath caught in his throat.

Beautiful as the day he first saw it, though scorched and scarred and sand-streaked, was a small metal Arwing.

Fox took it from the offered palm. So much smaller in his adult hands, so much lighter. It had spent so long on a shelf, glanced at but not truly appreciated, that he forgot what it felt like to hold it. Those sharp edges his mother had feared so much pressed against his palms as he turned it over and over, the black burns not managing to mask its beauty in the least. He couldn't imagine anything more valuable that could have been salvaged from the Great Fox wreckage.

Peppy's smile flashed in the window as he retreated and left his captain with the small Arwing. Even Falco had nothing to say, enjoying the downtime by slumping into the captain's chair and kicking his feet onto the first mate's armrest.

"Sir?" Robin broke the silence. "LTC reports the insert name here's transponder ID has expired."

Peppy huffed and started towards Robin's console. "I can finagle another extension. Let me just—"

Fox turned with a start. "Wait." He paused. "Are the application forms finished?"

Robin smiled. "Yes, sir. All application requirements have been approved, pending an official name."

The crew waited, their eyes on the captain.

Fox looked at them, then the Arwing, his mind rolling over what he had said to Pepper about the good that came about in the conflict. Transformations, courage, sacrifice, the best that people had to offer from the most unlikely of them all. For every strike of fear Dianus plagued the galaxy with, another person stood up against her. From the besieged Union Street police precinct of Corneria City to the rim of civilized space where the Vanguard and her escorts stood before a beast and her defenseless prey, people fought back. From the selfless, steadfast direct action of Dagger to the pop star who stepped forward when needed, Dianus could not break through. And from Gage's determination to end a cycle of violence to Fara's unwillingness to let her own dangerous birthright continue, plenty of inspiration could be found, inspiration that may never reach the public ear.

And from James McCloud's unending war for redemption to the INH's baptism by fire, Fox's legacy had no reason to point its muzzle anywhere but up where it had ascended.

_Where it had ascended..._

The concept stuck with Fox and only then did he truly realize how fitting Fara's codename had been. The conflict had put everyone in its path through the most brutal of trials. Not all lived, but they indeed rose from the ashes of those trials to find their own sense of victory. And not all would be recognized. But they all deserved to be remembered.

Gesturing for Robin to make room, Fox sat in her chair and gently placed the Arwing beside the keyboard. His fingers tapped the keys for a few seconds and he sat back, satisfied. Falco and Peppy gathered around him and he looked up, awaiting their approval. The avian reacted first, nodding with a sly grin creeping across his muzzle. Peppy just smiled and patted Fox on the shoulder.

He hit the "Send" command.

A quiet few minutes passed as the LTC received and processed the request to allow the ship into Cornerian space. At long last, Robin stood up straight and her eyes flickered, new information downloading automatically into her system. When her pupils finally stopped still, she perked up and made her way to the flight console.

"The Lylat Travel Commission has approved your application, sir."

With a smile of his own, Fox stood and stepped to the window again, waiting for the familiar blue and green planet to come into view as Robin aligned their flight path. "All systems go?"

"Yes, sir. The Silver Phoenix is prepared for entry."

The name rang true through the bridge, giving Fox a chill in his spine as he gave the newly christened ship its first order.

"Robin, take her in. Starfox is finally ready."

-

_**The End**_


	36. A Soldier's Rise: 6

[Author's Note: It ain't over till it's over. Thanks for reading everyone and enjoy! ~Foxmerc]

-

**A Soldier's Rise**

What She Loved

-

_Forty minutes after Eris' death_

_-  
_

Sarah Shane swallowed a deep breath of fresh air as she crested the top of the subway stairs; at least, as fresh as air could get in downtown Corneria City. The inimitable melding of street vendors, fumes, and thousands of moving bodies was certainly a step up from the glorified petri dish they liked to call a subway station. Sarah hated the days when her classes gave her little time to get to work, leading to the tortures of the subway rather than a leisurely walk. And to make things worse, reconstruction on the Union Street police precinct by her university meant even more clogged subway traffic.

But even the hot, sticky ride with far too many hands casually brushing her rear couldn't dampen the auburn jaguar's mood. She was on time for work, a cool breeze licked at her bare arms and legs thanks to her shorts and tank top, and she passed her psychology final. A few hours on the phone without some perv asking for anything weird and she could write it off as a perfect day.

But then again, the pervs always stayed on the phone longer and filled up her paycheck.

Amused at her lighthearted internal debate between more money and a more comfortable day at work, she instinctively cut through an alley and skirted around trash cans and stacks of boxes for the back doors of all the shops in the buildings flanking her. Her bag bounced over her shoulder as she deftly danced around the heaps and popped out onto the next street. A few more alley hops saw a slight transformation from the posh shop district to a respectable tenement row. The apartment buildings wouldn't make it into any real estate agent's first-tier sellers but they were home, the only environment Sarah had known since childhood…the environment she knew she'd leave behind someday when she finished college, no matter what anyone told her.

The jaguar bounded up to the front stoop of '14 Chamberlain' and buzzed apartment '4A' in three quick successions, her own little trademark. A buzz in response opened the door and she entered. Taking the creaking wooden stairs two at a time, she arrived at 4A and walked right in.

Marta sat behind the desk as usual, as much a fixture as the reception room's second-hand tacky furniture itself. Peering up over the rim of her glasses with as little interest as one could have while still being awake, the heavyset avian returned her attention to her magazine and said, "Lizzie's waitin' on ya. Got a caller, asked for ya and said he'd hold."

"Really?" Sarah shrugged her bag off her shoulder to carry it by hand. Odd…she hadn't been there long enough to have any regulars yet. "How long's he been holding?"

"Twunny minutes or somethin.' All under your name. Good haul."

Sarah smiled. The perfect day.

Dropping her bag in the smoke-hazed break room, she made her way back through the converted apartment to what was supposed to be the master bedroom, but instead held six desks arranged facing each other in two rows of three, sections of white-wood separating them into their own little booths to cut down sound interference. Three of the desks were occupied with other girls either talking or playing to the vid-comm's viewscreen. The girls with the pretty voices and not so pretty faces were the luckier ones; all they had to do was talk. Sarah took it as a weird sort of compliment that most of her callers preferred to keep the viewscreen on, though that meant she had to actually appear interested and not just sound it.

"Hey, babe!" Lizzie leaned back in her chair at the last booth and peered around the divider with a smile. The brown vixen gestured to the vacant booth beside her. "Guy for you on line three."

Sarah slid into the chair and flicked the vid-comm on. "Who is it?"

Her friend shrugged and ducked back into her own booth with a finger to her ear to signal she had a caller to attend to.

After clearing her throat a few times and warming up her voice for the deeper, sultry act she'd be playing for the next few hours, she activated line three. No image, rather the green 'Visual Feed Blocked By Caller' text that usually meant she could read or do class assignments while she talked. The little blurb beneath it that gave general call ID information was curiously blocked pretty much across the board, except for the planet of origin: Fortuna. Pretty loyal customer to pay for inter-planetary call charges.

"Thanks for calling Bad Kitties, sugar," she began in her soothing yet firm tone. "This is Angel; I hear you just can't get enough of me."

Silence. Sarah checked to make sure the right line was lit up and tried again.

"You there, sugar? No fun if it's just me, is it?"

A voice answered this time, deathly serious in tone, sounding as if fantasy arousal was the furthest thing from his mind._ "Good to hear your voice again."_

Sarah scrunched her forehead in thought, not wanting to offend the guy and maybe make him hang up by not remembering who he was. Then it hit her…the tone gave it away. "Oh, hey! The 'talker!' The guy with the nightmare and the girl. Wow, didn't know you liked that call enough to pay for twenty minutes of hold time for another one."

_"Listen…I don't know how much time I have before I need to go. I just need to talk again. Clear my mind. Can you get alone?"_

"Oh, uh…sure. One sec." Sarah frowned; she didn't like the way he sounded. She knocked on the divider to her left and leaned back to meet Lizzie's face on the other side. "Hey, is anyone using the sweat shop?"

The vixen shook her head and returned to her call.

"I'm gonna put you on hold for a sec, okay?" Sara said to the talker. "Don't go anywhere."

_"Yeah."_

She flicked the hold button and bolted out of the chair, heading to the other side of the large apartment where another bedroom, disdainfully called the sweat shop, had been converted into a studio for callers willing to pay a good chunk extra for a more elaborate show. Only a few girls were willing to do it…most, including Sarah, only put their faces on display. The room held a canopy bed with red satin all over it and a few dressers filled with whatever costumes and props a caller could want. A vid-comm sat on a table near the bed, giving the caller a good view. Sarah closed the door behind her, wrinkling her nose at the stale smell of leather and cheap linen, and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the vid-comm table closer.

With the tap of a button, line three was reconnected. "You there? Got you all to myself now."

_"I'm here."_

"What's the matter? More nightmares?"

_"No. No waking up from this."_

Sarah bit her lower lip. Her perfect day suddenly wasn't looking so good. "Tell me what's wrong. What are you doing on Fortuna? Your card on file has an address here in Corneria City."

The talker drew a deep breath and took his time answering. _"I've been sitting here for a while wondering whether or not I believe in miracles."_

"…miracles, huh? What kind of miracle? Like, religious or something?"

_"I see miracles all the time in my line of work…the good kind and the bad. Totally improbable things, lucky and unlucky. Comes with the job so we just shrug 'em off to the luck of the draw. But at what point does something happen that's so improbable that it has to have some kind of meaning beyond luck?"_

Sara leaned forward on her knees and rested her chin on her hands. "Never thought a normal talk would be harder than some of the other calls I get around here. You're not asking easy questions, sugar, especially not for a phone sex line. It would be easier if I knew what you did for a living or could even just see your face."

_"You don't want to see me or the room I'm in right now." _He paused. _"Remember what I was talking about last time? The woman I wanted to be with?"_

"Sure, yeah. How'd it all work out?"

_"She's dead."_

Sarah blinked, a sudden chill making her skin crawl. She realized she didn't know anything about this guy, and now here he was talking about dead girlfriends. Tip-toeing around her words to keep her voice even, she said, "I'm so sorry to hear that. How, uh…how did it happen?"

_"She died out near Macbeth in the fighting."_

The jaguar let out a relieved breath at the plausible explanation and shook her head at herself. Get a grip, girl, not everyone's a psycho killer. "Ah, I see. She's in the military. That's that whole job conflict you were talking about last time, the conflicting jobs that kept you two apart."

_ "Well…yeah, pretty much."_

"God, I'm so sorry. I saw it all on the news. She must have been very brave."

_"Like you wouldn't believe." _The talker paused for a few seconds and took a couple breaths. When he spoke again, the strong voice seemed on the brink of cracking. _"I miss her so much."_

The voice broke Sarah's heart. For all the pent-up sex she had to deal with on a daily basis, this was the first call from a man talking about love. Feeling helpless, she tried to say something more upbeat. "You said something got you thinking about miracles. What happened?"

After a few quiet seconds, the voice returned with its strength. _"I was thinking of doing something she probably wouldn't approve of. Then I didn't…like she was trying to tell me something. But I don't know why she'd want me to suffer…why she wouldn't want me to be with her."_

Sara didn't need him to draw a picture. Fidgeting on the bed, her heart beating faster and her palms sweating, she chose her words extra carefully. "Don't do anything stupid. Just take a deep breath and—"

_"Don't…please, Sarah, don't do that. My life isn't in your hands or anything like that. I'm just trying to understand. Talk with me, that's all I want."_

She nodded even though he couldn't see her, grateful at least that her recent psychology exam ace wouldn't suddenly be put into a real world test. "Okay then…well…I get where you're coming from. She was obviously very important to you. Did she feel the same way about you?"

_"She did."_

"Why don't you tell me what you loved about her?"

More silence. She was starting to feel bad that all this talk was ending up on the poor man's credit card.

_"She was unlike anyone I ever met. Never wanting to hurt anyone, always wanting to help, always ready to forgive. Even when things brought her to her breaking point she pushed back with as much courage and grace as I've ever witnessed. Even 'til the end she never backed down. She was everything I've ever tried to be."_

Sara grinned to herself."She sounds like a special woman. You must've made a pretty good impression to snag her. Now tell me what she loved about you."

The talker scoffed lightly. _"I don't know. I don't think—"_

"I didn't ask what you thought. At some point she must've told you something; that's what I want to hear, not your interpretation."

Sarah had become used to the long pauses but when the silence dragged over two minutes, she said, "Well?"

_"It's…I guess it's sort of the same I saw in her. She told me she admired me, what I do every day. She mentioned courage. Steadfastness. Morality. Even called me a 'dying breed' once. We touched a part of each other that's buried under a lot of armor."_

"Then I have no doubt she's tying to tell you something with this miracle of yours," Sarah replied. "Why would she ever want you to deprive the galaxy of what you have to offer it? If she loved who you are, why would she want you to change it?"

The jaguar waited without a sound so long she had to make sure once again that the line hadn't been lost.

"Listen," she continued, "I don't want to sound like I'm simplifying all this; a death is hard to take, I know. But don't let it do this to you. If everything she loved about you dies along with her…well then what's left of her?"

A string of shuffling noises and a chair scraping across a hard floor wafted through the vid-comm.

_"I have to go."_

"Wait, no…not until I know you're okay."

_"You helped me, you really did. More than I can tell you in the few seconds I have to spare." _He added,_ "You said last time you were putting yourself through college. What field?"_

Sarah blinked, off guard by the question. "Oh, uh…psychology. I want to be a therapist of some kind. Don't really know specifically yet. Ironic, huh?"

To her surprise, the screen flashed on and only stayed on for a few seconds. It was enough time for her to catch a dark, dank room with a large window behind it keeping at bay a vicious snowstorm. The room lay bathed in too much darkness to spy anything specific, but she could make out the features of the vulpine face before the vid-comm. He looked at her with heavy, pain-stricken eyes set against a face streaked with sweat. A small grin flashed on his muzzle and the screen fell dark again as suddenly as it had activated. But his voice trailed a last farewell from behind the mask.

_"You'll do good. You have a kind face."_

The connection cut.

Sarah leaned back on the bed and lingered for a few minutes, thinking about the conversation. A smile of her own began to form on her muzzle. Past the grime and darkness, she liked what she saw on the mysterious fox's face, a flicker of that strength he said his girlfriend loved about him. Not happiness, not closure, not inner peace…just strength to strive for those rather than pull a trigger on himself. And that's a start. Somehow, this anonymous guy telling her she'd do well as a therapist meant more to her than the A on her exam.

Shoving the table aside, she left the sweat shop.

Still a good day.

-

* * *

_Four days later_

-

The crowd at McLowry's Tavern had been dying down before General Pepper's eyes for the past two hours. He'd never stayed for so long but after the days of playing catch-up with every branch of the military and hopping from briefing to meeting to briefing and back again, even the evening tavern crowd gave him a sense of solitude, which was all he wanted at the moment. As long as no one wanted to talk to him or even mention the phrase "logistical analysis report" he felt as alone as anyone could get in Corneria City.

McLowry's wasn't the closest bar to the HQ but it still saw business from base personnel. While the young soldiers kept the closer bars in business, Pepper found himself more comfortable further away where he could smile and nod at a familiar face now and then and yet not awkwardly interrupt a group of cadets trying to have a good time without the brass around. And now with all his antique furniture blown into fire wood, McLowry's was one of the few places he could go to appreciate the quaint, dark tones of a polished wood interior.

He raised his bourbon to his muzzle and took barely a sip, the clink of ice in the glass getting softer and softer each time as it melted. From his rear corner table he could see the entire bar, abuzz with a dozen late night patrons, a few talking and laughing with the bartender. The soothing clack of billiard balls striking each other from the other side of the bar interrupted the soft jazz music trickling from overhead speakers every several seconds. When the front door opened, allowing in a wave of pedestrian and traffic noise from the street, he barely paid it only a moment's attention.

Until the figure that entered walked back toward him.

In the warm light, Pepper could make out a rust-furred jackal in a long navy blue coat and three-piece suit. The jackal moseyed to the table and placed his hands on the back of the chair across from Pepper.

"As a man who also hates having his solitude interrupted," he said, "I apologize. May I?"

Without waiting for permission, the jackal slid into the chair and straightened the lapels of his coat.

"Watch the leg," Pepper growled, shifted his own seat. "Who are you? Another yeoman wielding a meeting planner? Get in line; I'm booked every day this week."

With a sardonic grin, the jackal reached into his pocket and tossed a beaten leather ID case across the table. "Call me Laren."

Pepper scanned the ID and tossed it back to the man, who promptly made it disappear again into his pocket. "CDIA, huh? Doesn't the Agency ever conduct business during normal business hours?"

"Every hour of the day is a business hour somewhere in the galaxy. Besides, I'm here at the behest of a mutual acquaintance. I owe him a favor or two."

"What kind of favor?"

"A beneficial one for all of us." The jackal chuckled. "You know how it gets. An airstrike here, a hostage rescue there, and soon you forget whose turn it is to pay for lunch. Better just to do everything down the middle."

Pepper took a deeper gulp of his bourbon. God, how he hated talking to Agency spooks. "Listen, I've had a hard day. All I want to do is go home and get some sleep so I can spend at least a half hour with my family in the morning before another goddamn fourteen-hour day. Get to the point or get out."

"I'm not the one who initiated this meeting, general. I was just asked to show up."

Before Pepper could blink, someone slipped down into the last chair at the table between him and Laren. The old hound stiffened in surprise, his heart taking the kind of sudden stress he had hoped to escape at the bar. He hadn't seen anyone moving through the sparse crowd, hadn't even heard the front door open. The stealthy newcomer hunched over on his elbows; a dark red fox in street clothes and a black jacket. Pepper noticed his eyes first, gleaming from under his shadowed brow.

"Birse," the general breathed, relaxing back into his seat. "How long have you been in the bar?"

"Long enough to know your bourbon evaporates faster than you can drink it." Gage glanced at the other two men at the table in turn, keeping his voice at an even level to match the room's ambience.

Pepper twirled the highball glass around in his fingers, rattling the little remaining ice. "Any particular reason you're seeing me here rather than reporting back to base as normal? Your team's worried, Fox is worried, and your commanders are pissed off. You're on shaky ground."

Gage sighed through his nose. "Sir, the rule book never meant much to Dagger. And as the man in charge of CASOC's external military contracts, you know what it takes to win wars. Fox swears by you and that's why I'm here. Can you at least hear me out?"

With a sigh of his own, Pepper gestured for him to continue. No sleep tonight.

The fox pushed off his elbows and leaned back, his right hand still resting on the smooth wood and tapping intermittently. "It's pretty simple, really. I'm not ready to come back. The war may have ended but it doesn't stop here. I need some time to do what I have to do without CASOC or red tape getting in the way. And my team needs the rest; I don't want to drag them where I'm going."

"From my impression of your teammates," Laren interjected, "they'd come with you if you asked."

"That's why I'm not."

Pepper sipped from his glass, tasting more water than bourbon now. "It's funny…Fox mentioned he was going to ask you to join Starfox."

Gage blinked and shook his head. "I'll get in contact with him, try to explain things. My team too. But what I'm planning to do is a little dirtier than he's used to; I don't want to bring him into that."

"And exactly what do you plan to do?"

"Turns out the CDIA likes people willing to get dirty. Laren will be my unofficial contact for whatever information I need." Gage glanced at the jackal – who stuck his hand into his inner pocket and produced a PDA – and then returned his steely gaze to the general. "Sir, pirate activity was weakened but it's far from gone. And Hellion left a vacuum of chaotic power just waiting to be filled. Dagger has a backlog of dozens of unsavory types who would be more than willing to step up and be the next thorn in Lylat's side. If that happens, more will die and the cycle will start over."

Pepper couldn't argue with that, though the LDC had certainly tried. Every dispatch that went across his desk kept their forces home for security rather than risk another long-range incident and nail the final coffin in the outer rim threats. "What do you think you can do out there, Birse?"

"My job, sir. If I can keep this vacuum empty long enough maybe something good will finally fill it. Maybe Lylat can come back stronger and no more Hellions will gain a foothold."

Pepper polished off the ice in his glass and crunched it between his teeth in thought. He personally didn't know Birse that well but he knew him by reputation and record; his feats during the conflict were impressive to say the least. And Thomas McGarret, a trusted friend to match any other, spoke nothing but praise. And in all the years he had known Fox, a spot on the team had never been offered to anyone; such an honor spoke volumes. Hesitantly, he said, "I don't know what you want from me, but I just got back to my job and despite the headaches I'd rather keep it."

"All I want is for you to treat me like any other contractor, except I'm free. Send me any information you get about pirate activity or Venomian remnants. And keep me apprised of Dagger's activities."

Pepper remained silent for a few moments while Laren tapped on his PDA. Finally, he said, "No promises. But I'll see what comes across my desk. We'll keep in touch via MercNet."

Gage nodded.

"But Birse…this is purely temporary. And if you abuse anything I give you, you'll find out exactly what I do to win wars. Understood?"

"Sir." The fox shifted his eyes to Laren. "You bring what I asked."

"What I could decrypt in a hurry, yes." The spook handed the PDA to Gage and began to recite from memory as the other man flipped through the files. "Hellion's suspected weapon and demolition suppliers. We've sent undercover men in before but these people have good noses for sniffing us out. I trust you'll opt for the more direct approach."

A hint of a grin pulled at one side of Gage's muzzle and vanished. "Good start. What else?"

"I've been studying Siren behavior and it brought back an old memory: a female assassin the Agency investigated years ago. Vixen, very slippery, and she used a concealed blade mounted on one wrist. I believe she was our Siren Prime, but she had a collaborator. The other woman suddenly resurfaced about a month ago and one of our spy satellites caught her meeting with someone…someone's who's a bit of a loose end in our Project Siren investigation, if Powalski's last-minute testimony can be trusted."

Gage's face darkened as he studied the profile on the PDA. "Wolf O'Donnell."

"Finding him is imperative if we're to contain Project Siren. Check his last known location if you happen to be jaunting around there."

"I'll look into it." Gage flicked the PDA off and shoved it in his jacket pocket. "Press on Ares, if you can. I'm not optimistic but he may let something slip up."

Laren gave a slow nod, his expression becoming amused. "On that note, I'm rather surprised we didn't find two dead bodies back on Fortuna. You're always one to defy expectations, Longbow."

"You very nearly did find two dead bodies."

The dark tone made Laren's grin drop a little as he studied the other man with a trained eye, a stoic look of understanding gradually taking root. Whether from the bourbon, exhaustion, or being behind a desk rather than in the field, Pepper didn't catch on until the two continued their conversation.

"What kept you from pulling the trigger?"

With a glance around at his surroundings, Gage pulled something from beneath his jacket and placed it on the table with a solid clunk. In the dim light, Pepper made out the silhouette of a SEC-29 handgun, but no one in the tavern was close enough or interested enough to notice. The fox slid the piece across the table where Laren caught it and studied it.

"Nothing stopped me."

An eyebrow cocked in curiosity, Laren turned the gun over in his hands studying it and peered at the gas ejection port at the rear of the barrel. His curiosity turned to disbelief and genuine shock. "This is impossible."

"Fara always said it was impossible too. One reason why she loved the gun."

Laren leaned forward and plunked the gun down for the general to study. His firearms knowledge was a bit rusty, especially with Venomian pieces, but he knew how to check for problems. Sure enough, his stare also ended up at the gas ejection port where the cover had been locked back and a streak-like burn scarred the metal. With a blink of realization he looked up and uttered the word that was statistically negligible to be in the same sentence as 'SEC-29.'"

"Misfire?"

Gage nodded and took the gun back, concealing it in his jacket once more. "Take from it what you want. I already have." With another glance around, he continued, "I have to go. I'll be in touch."

The chair barely scraped as he rose to his feet and started for the door.

"Birse," Pepper barked before he could get more than a step. "How will you know when you're done?"

Gage stopped in his tracks and uttered over his shoulder, "The day you stamp 'KIA' over my file picture."

Laren chuckled. "Good luck, Longbow; you'll need it. Do you really think you can make any kind of difference out there by yourself?"

Gage didn't respond but just stood for nearly half a minute. Finally, he flashed a grin in response and headed for the door. With an exasperated, half-amused scoff, Laren turned back to Pepper and uttered, "Forever a hunting dog."

The general barely heard him as he watched the fox slip through the door, disappearing the moment he was swallowed by the crowd.

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_**The End**_

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Afterword:

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With ODA now officially ended, I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has read the story and especially those who have been faithful reviewers. This story has meant a great deal to me and it's very heartening to hear how you feel about it as well.

A few things to say: Firstly, if you're at all interested, you can find a picture of the Dagger insignia in my profile picture. Something an artist did for me from my rather pitiful attempt to sketch it out in MS Paint. Stays very true to how I envisioned it. And if you're interested in desktop wallpaper size, drop me a line and I'll send the file.

Also, though I'll be mostly concentrating on a few original writing projects, I do plan to write another fic soon so stay tuned. I'm a bit torn on where to go next so I figured I'd see where the interest is out there. Once my profile updates over the next day or so, you'll find a poll to vote for which one sounds good to you.

Lastly, just let me say thanks again. It's been close to two years but with your support and a lot of work, ODA has become something special to me...and somehow the longest fic in the SF section. Sorry Kit, hehe. I got to know quite a few of you over the course of the story and got to know more about my writing. I'm looking forward to seeing where things can go from here.

Hope to see you all next time!

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